


Rilkean Heart

by cherrycolouredfunk



Category: Final Fantasy IX
Genre: F/F, F/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-14
Updated: 2018-04-29
Packaged: 2018-07-24 01:38:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 8
Words: 69,178
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7488312
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cherrycolouredfunk/pseuds/cherrycolouredfunk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>21 years after Zidane’s return to Alexandria, the party has grown into their peaceful lives with the restoration of peace on Gaia. In turn, their children have all flourished into talented, well-respected young adults. But what happens when the new generation begins to turn against the very heroes who saved the world? Beatrix's backstory is up. TRIGGER WARNING: Violent scenarios, sexual scenes, and rape.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Lilia

**Author's Note:**

> Opening notes from the author:
> 
> Hello everyone! My former username was daggertrepe/chittylafemme, and I was the author of the highly inquired of, “Bones of an Idol”. I have renamed it, aptly, as “Rilkean Heart”. And, as all my works, the title is indeed after a song. This one is by Cocteau Twins, so I really don’t own the title.
> 
> I don’t own anything except for the original characters.
> 
> If you listen to the song, you will eventually understand why I have named the fic after that it.
> 
> I have been reading Rilke as of late, and have felt inspired by his delicate words, so I will incorporate a relevant poem a chapter. I also felt that since the story is focused on what would be the equivalent of a family of German descent (The Steiners), Rilke is an apt source of inspiration for this story. And, as we all know, FFIX and its characters have hearts of gold, which Rilke himself is known for. 
> 
> For those of you who have read my fanfics before, the story will be centered around Lilia Steiner, but other characters will play a much bigger role than they previously did. So, fun for all your favorite characters and their children!
> 
> I was quite unhappy with how the story had progressed a few years ago and saw no way to fix it (I wrote and conceived it at 15). But, proceeding to use the same beloved characters (and more!), I feel confident that I have a much better, more enjoyable story at hand for your pleasure! 
> 
> It is also true that I grab constant inspiration from unwinding fantasy’s “Two Roads Converged”, a story that seems to have sadly been stored in the unfinished archives at ff.net.
> 
> I will also start posting poems on every subsequent chapter. I am leaving the intro poemless.
> 
> So, without further ado, let us begin.
> 
> Side note: Let it be known that this first chapter may be up for a while until you see any new ones. Reason being is that I want to have all the chapters done at once so nobody is waiting on a cliffhanger that may never be resolved. Allow this chapter to serve as a refresher, and a taste of what is to come. The time frame is indefinite.
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own Final Fantasy IX or any of its original characters. I also do not claim to be a good writer in any sense, so no unnecessary or mean comments, please!

The view from the window in the general’s quarters had always been nothing short of magnificent. And in that very fashion, amongst other things, she has always considered herself beyond fortunate.

Her delicate, yet firmly strengthened fingers curled around the pale blue windowpane. She relished the gentle breeze swishing through the curtains, voyaging to the softening surface of her skin. The early April air was crisp with spring, the scent of magnolia, lilacs, and Alexandrian roses wafting to greet her awaiting senses. She had come to terms with the fact that she was indeed aging, and perhaps growing weaker, but other lives had now depended on her. This duty was the greatest duty that she had encountered, and there had been many. 

One of her tried hands drifted over her rounded, swollen belly. Chimes danced in a minute, calming orchestra in the distance. The queen always was a creature of soundly comforts. 

Beatrix turned her gaze downwards from the waterfalls in her direct line of vision, spotting her young daughter in the courtyard of the castle, chasing Queen Garnet’s young son with a long, wooden stick, howling in a tone one may liken with a banshee. The poor young boy ended in a trip and fall, landing on the ground with an audible thud, Beatrix’s energetic daughter never too quick to pounce upon her prey. The general knew that her otherwise very complacent, gentle, noble, and perfectly mannered young child had to tie up her loose ends somehow.

She smiled to herself and sighed, affirming that perhaps the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree. Sounds of their tussle got lost around the bend as they disappeared from view.

“Prepare to die, meddlesome fool!” the girlish, shrill voice rang out, in a manner that was all too much like her father’s.

“The paternal tree, more or less,” Beatrix chuckled to herself, rubbing her belly once more. The feeling of her being pregnant for the second time was indeed strange, as she had not even anticipated the first one, much less the second one. A cold sensation trickled down her spine at this thought, and she was forced to reckon her feelings once more on her good fortune. 

Still, the Rose General’s contemplations always managed to wander back to anxieties, particularly at times like these, when everything was peaceful and very well. She felt, perhaps, that she felt she did not deserve the fortune that was bestowed upon her, upon her body, upon her very life. 

She shook her head and attempted to dismiss the thoughts once more, knowing that she should not place such a stressful burden upon her unborn child. There was a always a fear, for any mother, of something going awry, perhaps a miscarriage, or worse, a birth defect that would make life very difficult for the child. Leopoldine Magnilde Steiner (or “Lea”, as she liked to be called) had arrived into the world a slight bit jaundiced, but nevertheless healthy and beautiful as nature would allow any one child, while unmistakably taking after the lovely, gentle, and fine features of her mother’s face. 

She glanced down at her swollen breasts, now much too large for her frame (as if they weren’t to begin with—always a curse in battle). She firmly shook her head. The clothes covering her were that of a pedestrian—a silken frock and silly black bottoms made of some cloth unknown to her.

Beatrix had anticipated this pregnancy would end just as well as the last, as she was already nine months pregnant and ready any day now, for the arrival of the next. This one, she knew, would physically take after Steiner, as that was how it always seemed to follow through with siblings, one after the other. An unmistakable inkling of gender peaked through, and suspected that against all of Steiner’s prayers, chants, and masculinity rituals prepared and executed by him and his fleet, that the baby was, indeed, another girl.

“I am truly sorry, Adelbert.”

She turned her gaze over to her right, in the opposite direction of the children in a tussle. 

There he was, plain as day, prancing around the courtyard, sword erected upwards, passive hand on his hip, blade glinting from the light of the sun. There was some sort of party going on, with the Knights of Pluto following in the like, but Beatrix could not define for the life of her what exactly Steiner thought he was accomplishing. That stern, concentrated countenance tugged at her heartstrings. If there was one thing in the world that could melt the ice that constantly pervaded her heart, it was his expression.

“I fear that you would not understand, Beatrix. It is an ancient Steiner family ritual passed down through the ages. It is to guarantee a male heir, and has yet to fail!”

Beatrix did not bother to point out that it had already failed the first time. Yet still, she could not deny that Steiner absolutely adored their young daughter, and would not trade her in for the world. 

One of her favorite past times was watching the young girl fall asleep on her father’s chest after a long day of play, the last of it being with him for the last hours, and she always fell asleep looking into deep, dark, brooding eyes. He would then carry her up to her bed inside the castle, tuck her in, and resume duty. Sometimes, if they were lucky, they got to spend their evenings just being together. 

Surely, he was not the most careful or precise of men, and certainly not the most tactful, but he was brimming with love, care, and adoration for the two main women in his life (minus the Queen, of course). And to Beatrix, this meant everything.

So, she took his last name.

It was partially because she unwittingly discovered that she would bear a child for him, days before Zidane’s return. It had come as much of a shock to Steiner as it did to her; both believing it was simply impossible to have her battered body filled with child. Yet in her heart, from the moment he had asked her to stay with him to protect the Queen as a team, she knew that he was the one she was going to spend the rest of her life with—however long or short that life may be. 

Marriage came as naturally to the both of them as dusk is born of daylight—though both of them had given up all hopes for marriage or a family when enlisting in the Alexandrian Army, or in his case, the Knights of Pluto. With child, she walked down the aisle in a simple white dress and veil, he being dressed in his best noble’s attire, the queen being the only other one allowed present before the officiator. 

It had been such a short affair, but a blessed one, nonetheless.

And every day Beatrix told herself she did not deserve it. Any of it. 

A good, strong, willful husband whom she adores, and adores her in turn. 

Two presumably healthy children. 

The most gracious queen in the land to protect. 

Many people that she has allowed herself to call family.

The blood-spattered fabrics of the past do not dematerialize. There is no reasoning one may find within themselves to make it so. Beatrix had always known this, yet the weight of it did not press upon her spirits until late. She was trying very hard not to take a single entity of her life for granted. But every moment of her fortune produced an equal amount of agony for her conscience. Every man she felled, at once in honor, in dignity, and duty…their faces, they all blended together to create the ghoulish face that haunted her macabre nightmares. Very often, though Steiner had concluded in was simply the ‘mares of pregnancy’, she had woken up in the middle of the night, screaming until she found that she had no voice left. 

They would creep upon her, their skin ripped from their bodies, raw and hot, their blood spilling into each of her orifices, the arms tearing, the teeth chewing, her own screams drowned in the moans of vengeance.

The most chilling thing to Beatrix was that she simply could not forgive herself.

Of course, she was simply following orders. Orders. Orders and nothing more. Generals have an obligation to have full, unwavering faith and loyalty in the crown they vowed to defend. 

But what shall they do when the crown has taken a turn for evil?

Beatrix reacted too late. And there was not one death in that year that she did not regret causing.

Very often, Steiner attempted to console her. 

“I am just as guilty as anyone, my love. If anyone should feel guilty, it is I. I was not under the Queen’s reign at the time—I acted of my own free will. But you! The Queen had made you her confidant. Her intimate. It was like a sisterhood. What were you to do? Certainly not defy her. Fear not, Beatrix. Please, try…to forgive yourself!”

It was not so simple, and he knew it. But he had to say something, anything, to try and make his wife feel better, enough so that she would not feel tempted to leave her life as it were, or worse, commit more atrocities of her own free will.

Her head had slumped onto his plate—begging herself not to cry, not to show vulnerability. He placed a hand on the back of her smooth, chesnut-brown hair. He knew that she was crying, and embraced her in the wake of the tears.

“I forgive you Beatrix. We all do. Please, stop being so hard on yourself. It is not optimal for your health.”

Beatrix shook her head, pretending that Steiner did not see the tears pitter-pattering onto the iron plating of his boots.

“They do not forgive me in Burmecia, Adelbert. They never shall.”

Steiner did not quite know how to answer her. He just let her cry silently, stroking her hair gently.

The General had often drifted off into the past as of late. She thought, perhaps, she was becoming soft of mind. She shook her head and redirected her attentions away from the window, sitting herself down gingerly on the bed. She sighed and turned her head towards her nightstand, gazing at the dozen red roses Steiner had picked for her from the gardens. It was true, he did truly love her, and in such an amazing, deep, thoughtful way. It was quite often that he had done little favors for her such as this, or had masterminded many small gifts throughout the month that made her beam with joy. She felt that he was one of the few men she knew who sought to understand his wife in an intimate way, and the second pregnancy had been no exception to this.

Again, she was lucky. So incredibly lucky.

Some time after she began gazing at the flowers, there was a soft, yet sharp knock on the door. Beatrix whipped her head sharply at the sound, and then smiled knowingly.

“Come in, your majesty,” Beatrix called out.

Queen Garnet Til Alexandros XVII entered in a calm and quiet demeanor, as she always had. Though her adventures around Gaia and beyond had fired her personality up considerably, she was still as stately and elegant as always, being the ruler, and now mother, she was always destined to be. Her husband, however, was always another story. He didn’t like to spend much time at the castle, as he was always out traveling, wandering around Gaia for his next adventure, but always came home to her in the end. 

And somehow, it had surely strengthened their relationship. She was always in a state of pure ecstasy in his presence, something that is rare for a long-term marriage. Beatrix was very happy for both of them, knowing that they were both in mutual married bliss.

“Good day, Beatrix. How are you feeling so close to your due date?” Garnet asked, stepping closer to the general.

Beatrix shook her head, insistent on changing the subject.

“Worry not, your highness. All is well with the children and I. Is there a matter you wish to address with me?”

Garnet grinned ever so slightly, blushing, pushing herself up on her toes. Her hands were tied behind her back, and Beatrix immediately knew she was asking for a favor. She cleared her throat.

“Yes, I do. Zidane wishes to take Zerrick and I on a small vacation next month, for the entirety of the month. I know it is not usual of me to leave the castle for any small occasion, but I was wondering—

Beatrix waved her hands and shook her head.

“Do not be silly, my queen. You may take leave with the king. Adelbert and I will manage the affairs of the castle while you are away.”

Garnet appeared to be surprised, and a little guilty in her blush. She blinked her eyes a few times.

“Really? It is just that I know your little tot is due any day now, and I do not want to burden you with too much responsibility.”

“It is not a problem, Your Majesty. You know quite well what we are capable of handling,” Beatrix replied with a small laugh, gesturing to the window at the screams of the children. “I just want you to promise me that you will have a wonderful time away.”

The young queen then smiled a wide, gracious smile, and nodded her head once before joining Beatrix on her and Steiner’s modest-sized bed. Garnet ran her hands over the fabrics and chuckled.

“I don’t know how you share such a small bed with someone as large as Steiner!” she noted, searching for a playful reaction from Beatrix. The general, however, was simply not in the mood to banter with the queen. Garnet noticed this and changed the subject.

“Oh, I was only kidding, Beatrix. Hey! I also have something else I must confide in you, if you do not mind attending to my troubles at this moment…”

The older woman placed her attention back to the young woman, nodding her head in agreement.

“What is it, Your Highness?”

Garnet hesitated a bit longer than she might for any minor matter.

“Well…I suppose that you would find out sooner or later, but I figured that I should tell you now, so that you don’t obtain the information from a second-hand source. You see…” 

Garnet paused for a moment, unsure of how to continue, her features scrunched into a thoughtful expression, her eyebrows knitted together intently. 

“Yes, my queen?” Beatrix prompted after many seconds of silence.

Garnet heaved a sigh, finally staring into the General’s ruddy brown eyes.

“I am expecting my second child!” Garnet exclaimed, glad of the weight lifted from her chest, “I am probably around three or so months in. I wanted to wait to tell everyone, just in case I miscarried.” Beatrix’s mouth budged ever so slightly in her trademark, subtle version of excitement.

“That is wonderful news, Your Highness! Does the king know of this?” Beatrix asked. Garnet affirmed this.

“Yes, but Steiner does not yet have this knowledge. I plan on telling him after you have your child.”

The two women tuned in to the shouts and chants coming from the open window, and looked at each other in great skepticism. 

“And that would be why. I don’t believe he’s taking your pregnancy very well at the moment, let alone my own. He cannot be worried sick about both of us, you know. That alone with set the kingdom to a crumble.”

The women gazed at each other lovingly, then giggled in agreement.

“I do believe that is an accurate assessment, Your Grace,” Beatrix stated. 

A rush of wind then found the general. She stood up immediately as she lost her breath, instinct telling her to look below at her feet. She felt the dampness of her undergarments, the humidity of it all that would allow her skin to scrunch. There it was: on the finished wooden floor under her feet, a puddle of amniotic fluids, much of it still running down her leg and through her pants. Garnet also stood up, staring in disbelief and shock at the tiny lake forming below the General’s legs.

“Look away Your Majesty—this is not sight for a aqeen! Allow me to handle this—“

“Beatrix!” Garnet reprimanded, garnering a look of astonishment from the general. “I am also a woman, and one who has been through childbirth at that! You need someone to assist you to the medical wing…let me help you...”

Garnet reached over in a sudden movement, grabbing Beatrix’s muscled arm.

“Your Highness…”

“Do not ‘Your Highness’ me right now! You are in labor! We must alert Steiner at once!”

Beatrix had no choice but to relent at the face the fledgling queen made at her.

“Then go and request his presence in the medical wing. Make haste!” Beatrix replied. “I will be fine to amble myself there.”

Garnet stood a moment, observing Beatrix’s questionable stance on her situation, then nodded and ran out of the chamber, Beatrix following in what, to her, felt like slow had been casted on her. The dreadful pain was starting to creep up her spine and seep into her lower back muscles, an unwelcome reminder of her first time in labor. She placed a hand on her hip, as was protocol for her, but this time, it was for pain only. She stumbled a long five minutes to the wing, shaking off any proposed assistance from her soldiers or the Knights of Pluto. 

“This is no complication to concern yourselves with, now get back to your duties!” she shouted as they clambered and hovered the entire way there, most of them reluctant to let her walk on by herself. They understood that part of General Beatrix’s job was to act as if nothing had worried or fazed her, but they could sense that she was in great physical pain.

The pregnancy had been a difficult one for Beatrix. Not because of any complications, but because of its implications. She was extremely bothered by the idea that her army thought her to be lax, conceivably ready to attempt to override her at any point. It was not that she did not trust them, specifically. She did not trust anyone. And thus, she tried never to mention her condition to anyone but the queen and Steiner. Eventually, her pregnancy became too difficult to render attention away from, and she had to temporarily step down as General of the Alexandrian Army. It was not something that she took lightly, nor was it something she took pleasure or relaxation in. Being a General and the duty inherent in that was what she loved most, besides being a mother to Leopoldine. She took great pride in her position, and to abandon it for any reason unrelated to the sheer guilt plaguing her conscience made her extraordinarily anxious. 

She loved her queen. She loved her family. That much had been absolute, and always would be.

Finally, she had made it to the wing. The medical staff on duty immediately took her in to a labor room, knowing full well the situation at hand, and the agonizing hours that would go by before she was able to hold her baby in her arms. No amount of curing spells would be able to stave off the pain she was to feel.

But in that final moment after hours and hours of delivery—with Steiner, the queen, and eventually Leopoldine by her side, she had given birth to another baby girl, this one as just beautiful as the last, and just as healthy, though slightly smaller, and not at all jaundiced.

Steiner held the cooing infant in his arms, pressing the baby close to himself and leaned unto Beatrix, not appearing to be at all disappointed at the gender like Beatrix had expected. They beheld the unique and striking features of her tiny, wincing face, before regarding each other, sweating with the sheer pressure, psychological and physical pain of childbirth, a very unsure thing.

“What are you going to name her?” Garnet asked, taking a moment to look away from the child and to her parents. Leopoldine chimed in with equal curiosity, albeit a bit of jealousy, tugging at her mother’s bed sheets. Beatrix and Steiner looked at her other intently for a minute or so, before nodding in agreement.

“We will name her Lilia. Lilia Rosamund Steiner,” Beatrix spoke softly, tracing a red-lacquered finger down her newborn’s velvety cheek.

At this moment, Lilia began to wail raucously, causing for Leopoldine to kneel on the ground in shock, covering her ears flat with her hands. Little did the newborn know that she was forming the first impression her parents and sister would ever have of her.

Lilia never was one to stay quiet for very long.


	2. The Angels

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They all have lips profoundly tired  
> and lucid souls without a seam,  
> and yearning (like a sin desired)  
> moves sometimes slowly through their dream. 
> 
> They nigh resemble one another  
> and walk His gardens silently:  
> so many intervals that gather  
> in God’s majestic melody. 
> 
> But only with their wings extending  
> do they call forth the heaven’s gales:  
> like sculptor God Himself were bending  
> the pages, and His hands were mending  
> the book of dark creation tales.
> 
> \--Rainer Maria Rilke, “The Angels”

And with the start of each new day, the blood coursed through her veins, thickly, intently. This was a body with a purpose spelled on flesh from the moment of conception.

She felt the hot light of day shining on her face through her covers. Lilia was one who thoroughly enjoyed sleeping in pitch black, in complete silence. It was as if someone had flipped a switch inside her head when the sun decided to peak over the Eastern horizon and infiltrate her room with lustrous brightness, speaking the words, ‘Lilia, Lilia, awake, my sweet!’

There was simply no time for sleeping while the sun shined—there was far too much to be done in one nineteen hour period, and she felt that she may sleep when she was dead.

The young woman jerked her head upwards from her pillow and sat upright, sloppily throwing her covers to the side and crudely approached her vanity, placing herself down hard on the cushioned stool. She picked up her hairbrush and began combing through her long, medium-brown hair, still quite groggy, but growing into lucidity. The smell of a Qu’s breakfast from the castle’s kitchen was already wafting through the castle halls. Lilia thought about what her fellows in arms would be eating in barracks for a moment, but quickly dismissed the thought in favor of more pleasant contemplations.

She placed her brush gently on the table of her vanity and stood up to inspect her face in the mirror. Her eyes were slim and half-opened with the last vestiges of sleep. Her nose was a touch too long for her face with lips that naturally curved into a frown set against a squared jaw. Accompanying it was strong cheekbones jutting outwards, high into her hairline, complimenting the nearly garish presence of her long bottom lashes. No doubt she was lovely, but she took strongly after her father in both face and body, causing people to always question her mood.

Lilia was usually at least half-agreeable, however she had a fiery spirit and a very loud mouth that often got her involved in brawls with some of the other soldiers. It was occasionally troublesome for her with friends and family too.

She inspected the mirror closer, jade green eyes widening and adjusting to the room as it gradually brightened. Immediately she noticed a lonely pimple peaking through a hair follicle on her cheek.

“Splendid,” she mumbled to herself as she roughly grabbed her major’s uniform, which differed from the standard uniform of Alexandrian soldiers. It was a lavender suit with many different vinyl components. There was long cuts in the train, making it look a bit like her mother’s duster, but much more colorful. It was flanked with a long cape that was attached by sturdy buttons to the top of the uniform. She had recently been promoted after proving herself worthy of the title, “Major Lilia Steiner.” It warmed her heart to think of the prospects that presented themselves with this honorable title. Her fingers and toes tingled with anticipation at another day of fierce training, and best of all, leading the other soldiers.

Except of course, she had the performance today instead. She had forgotten. She grudgingly put her major’s uniform back and picked out her dance uniform.

Alexandrian dance was a rather new tradition, created by the king and queen in a yearly celebration of peace in Alexandria and all of Gaia. Every year the dance occurs on the day Kuja gave his life to liberate Gaia from destruction, and it incorporates both royal Burmecian styles and Lindblumese street dance. As a result, Alexandrian dance was an extremely difficult act, possessing both finesse and flair.

Lilia had suspected this yearly parade was just an excuse for King Zidane to get together with friends and family and have the time of his life, all the while poor Queen Garnet dreading the whole affair entirely. His behavior was never wicked. It was simply that every single year, more than anything Zidane enjoyed performing stunts in front of his wife that made her gasp in horror. His people loved him and egged him on to do tricks on the flag lines and banners of business. He always came out of these street stunts alive and well, but the queen never found it quite so amusing. Lilia always wondered which year he was going to get himself badly injured or killed.

As she was slipping into the last of her periwinkle dance uniform, there was a light, annoyingly polite rap on her door.

“Why do you even bother knocking? Come in,” Lilia spoke without much concern. Her sister, Leopoldine entered through the doorway. Lilia continued to gaze at herself in her mirror, making sure all was right with her uniform before turning to her sister, whom she was expecting.

“Do I appear properly attired, my lady?” the younger sister asked, motioning down her brawny, long body, mocking Leopoldine’s perfectly-mannered speech.

Leopoldine considered her sister’s face with slight exasperation and amusement at her apparent irritation with the Alexandrian dance ordeal.

“You are quite thin, and without any curves to speak of, that I do not believe anything would look amiss on your frame,” Leopoldine noted with a flash of a smirk, crossing her arms and walking further into the room towards Lilia’s singular window. The light of dawn was shining through onto the wooden floors. “I do not understand why you choose to participate in the event if it makes you so despondent.”

Lilia blinked a few times and crossed her own arms, letting her natural scowl set deeper into her expression. “I’m not despondent. I just want to get this over with so that I can get back to training with my squad.”

“You used to love Alexandrian dance! What happened? Oh…I know you do not wish to disappoint father, you are his most prized possession after all…” Leopoldine continued on. Her eyes followed Lilia as she went back to her mirror to make sure her naturally spiraled curls were in order. “Mother is going to come and fix your hair for the performance—God knows I am not to touch it!”

Lilia grinned as she ran her quick fingers through her luscious, glossy hair.

“You would be correct in that you will not touch my hair,” Lilia snorted. “And yes, of course I don’t want to disappoint father. This has been tradition since we were young, and he enjoys watching me dance so much, I just grin and bear it. It’s my last year, anyway.”

Lilia turned around from her reflection and placed a hand on her hip, the other soaring upward, flipping her long locks.

“And besides, it taught me much about finesse and grace. Two concepts you have not a clue about.”

Leopoldine cocked an eyebrow at her sister’s juvenile insults. Usually, she just let them slide right off, knowing that she would play the adult in nearly every situation.

“Lilia, I do not have time for your petty games today. I came here to inform you of protocol…nothing more, nothing less,” Leopoldine told her, exasperated. “To begin, mother will be here in five minutes, as she has been busy organizing the patrol in town. You will wait in the west part of town in front of Blizzard Breakers for the parade to start. As the lead dancer and captain of the Alexandrian Dancers, you will clue the dance into the parade just as the flutists and their moogles pass. Everything shall run smoothly today if you heed my instructions, baby sister.”

“Indeed, Lea, I am well aware of what my duties are as lead dancer, thank you.”

Leopoldine’s nostrils flared, attempting to keep her atypical temper at bay, and she sighed audibly. Nobody could push her buttons quite like Lilia.

“Be that it may, I am doing my duties as Hand of the Queen. I oversee all operations of this kingdom, and I see to it that they run smoothly. Excuse me if I do not trust you entirely, as you have the propensity to be quite reckless.”

There were times when Lilia admired her older sister. Of course as they got older, the instances in which this occurred were few and far between. When Lilia was very young, Leopoldine was not very kind to her, and was in fact quite venomous in her jealousy towards the young knight. Their father had always called it ‘healthy sibling rivalry.’ Lilia had suspected it was because her elder sister’s frame didn’t allow her to become a knight, as she was far too short and shapely to do so in a manner that would allow her to stay nimble enough to live.

It was true that Leopoldine took after Beatrix in most ways; her face was exceedingly bright, highly girlish, and so incredibly flawless that some often mistook her for the kingdom’s princess. She had heavy coal-black hair that reached mid-back until recently when she decided to shave half of her head to prevent being mistaken for the princess. Her eyes were reddish-brown, and like Beatrix’s remaining eye, they sparkled with both gentility and conviction. Often enough, her full lips were intentionally expressionless, although now they curved upwards into an inviting expression. Unlike most others, she enjoyed painting her lids in winged eyeliner and heavy, chunky mascara, with a perfectly aligned silver hoop in her left nostril. Her father greatly disapproved of that detail.

The oldest daughter of the two legendary knights was also known for having an extremely “feminine” figure—one that was only slightly cumbersome, but it was the type of robustness that suited her to perfection. Her breasts and rump were, to say the least, developed, but this much she attempted to hide in her uniform. She wore a cape and shoulder pads of pitch black. Underneath was a brown lace-up vest and deep, blood-red stockings with a pair of fine steel plated shoes that always clanked heavily every time she stepped near. And when standing next to her towering sister, it became more apparent just how small she actually was.

Lilia was aware that their differences couldn’t be more pronounced—and she was glad of the genetic share she had received, save the amount of attention that Leopoldine’s beauty garnered from the people of Alexandria. The young teenager thought she’d much rather be a talented, famed knight than be conventionally beautiful and musically inclined anyway.

“Excellent. Don’t you have a breakfast hall to get in order or something? You are dismissed from my room.” Lilia said, attempting to shoo her away. Leopoldine gave her one last glare and glided over to the doorway. Before exiting, she turned around sharply in the frame and smiled facetiously.

“By the way, mother has informed me that you will not be training at all today. The royal family has decided to hold Princess Crystal’s confirmation in addition to today’s activities. A celebration for all, indeed! Tonight we shall have a feast in her honor, and you would do well to be on your very best behavior.”

Without further ado, Leopoldine curtailed out of Lilia’s chamber, hefty steps echoing through the corridor. Lilia grimaced after her, throwing herself down onto her stool, chin in hand awaiting her mother, who didn’t take long to appear.

The general, who hadn’t changed much physically in her near three decades of service, strode into the room and flipped her rapidly silvering, ashy brown hair. She smiled brightly at the sight of her daughter in her dance uniform, and strode over to start running her practiced, calloused hands through her hair.

“Lilia, you look magnificent! I do believe you may give Princess Crystal a run for her money today,” Beatrix prattled, the crow’s feet on her visible eye creasing as she looked at both herself and Lilia in the mirror. She saw so much of Steiner in Lilia’s facial structure and overall physique, even when she was dolled up to near faultlessness, that it set ablaze the ever-burning furnace of her heart. “I do hope you’ve remembered that her summoner’s confirmation is right after the festival.”

“Oh, don’t worry. Lea made sure to remind me,” Lilia snorted, her face sinking even deeper into its unbecoming pout. Beatrix began pulling her hair into braids, nimble fingers racing against the clock. “Do you have to always pull so hard, mother?”

Beatrix’s smiled quickly faded and glanced at her daughter with distaste, causing Lilia to shrink into herself. “Do be serious now, Lilia. There is no need to fret. Your training will commence tomorrow—I know it pains you to leave it at the door for one day. There are more important things in life than becoming the most powerful warrior in Alexandria, though that may be a hard thing to understand right now.”

“I’m sure that was exactly what you told yourself when you were training to become Gaia’s most feared warrior,” Lilia drawled sarcastically.

“I did not accomplish such a feat in one day of training. It took many,” Beatrix explained, snappishly pulling her daughter’s braids into a masterwork on top of her head, causing the teenager to groan. “Your skills will not suffer for it, but your attitude needs to come into check when you’re around your superiors. I will hear no more of this balderdash from you today.”

Lilia had no choice but to obey. She stayed quiet for the rest of the duration of her mother’s presence. Nobody in their immediate family ever challenged her—and for good reason. Not only was she a force to be reckoned with, she was the voice of reason more often than not. Within a few more minutes and the quick strokes of a mother’s expert fingers, Lilia was ready for show.

“You may turn around now.”

Lilia turned around to face her mother, who wasted no time in grabbing Lilia’s youthful face and placing a gentle, yet firm kiss on her forehead.

“Your father and I love you so very much, Lilia. You will do wonderfully today. Try to keep yourself in check,” Beatrix whispered, stroking her daughter’s hair. “And listen to Lea when she tells you something, because she is probably right.”

*********

The streets near the west end of Alexandria were packed with people at every corner. There were so many people that Lilia and her troupe had to stick very close together in order to communicate with each other for the signal. The young major of the Alexandrian Army had been scanning the crowd relentlessly, searching for Bentley and Sapphira, Ruby and Blank’s children. The two of them had grown up in town, had always thoroughly enjoyed the celebrations, as did the rest of the Alexandrian people. But this year seemed different to Lilia. The streets were packed to maximum capacity, and there were many, many more people than in years past.

The girl closed her eyes and breathed in through her diaphragm—there was much anxiety and tension in the air, and she could easily sense this much. She opened her eyes again as she felt a sharp whip of strange energy coming from her right. She felt a sultry gaze upon her. Slowly, she looked over to her right and spotted an older, dirty-looking man. He was quite obviously homeless.

“Strange…” Lilia softly said to herself, cocking her head to get a better view of the man. People were rarely homeless in Alexandria anymore, as they had a prospering economy and a low poverty rate compared to Lindblum.

He caught Lilia discovering his visual advances, and before darting away from the scene, he bore into her gaze as she did his. Lilia eyed his direction as long as she could before the horns sounded for the parade to begin. Instantly brought into herself, she coiled all the physical energy she had inside and did her best to focus on the matter at hand: she had to perform exceptionally well in her dance to impress the royal family, as well as her own.

“Lilia!”

The girl’s concentration was once again snapped out of place when she heard someone calling her name, and pushing their way through the crowd was none other than Bentley. Holding his hand was a young, pre-teen Sapphira.

“Where have you two been?” Lilia asked, a large smile growing on her, wrapping her arms around Bentley’s strong, yet lean body as he entered her space. The Alexandrian dancers looked on, quite annoyed at this interruption of their concentration. Lilia gave a hug to Sapphira and ran her fingers through her voluminous red hair as Bentley made a point to answer her question.

“Ah, sorry Lils! We got caught up in a little something-something before making our way over. Hope you’re not too pissed at us!”

Lilia eyed him over in mock-suspicion, knowing well that Bentley liked to get himself into trouble and drag his sister with him.

“You should know better than to get into street brawls with your sister watching. The older ones lead by example, you know!” Lilia answered him, inspecting him for bruises and scuffs, but she saw none. Bentley waved her off.

“No, no, it was nothing like that. Just had to take care of some business, you know what about already,” he answered, the pointy top of his bluish-grey hair shifting ever so slightly. Bentley always had a way about him where he would attempt to look consistently nonchalant, even after getting himself into trouble. Sapphira placed her hands together and her eyes twinkled at the sight of the inspirational, fierce young warrior.

“How has your training been going, Lilia? I heard you just got promoted to Major! That’s amazing!” the young girl gushed in awe.

“Yes, it has been a very exciting time for my squad and I! Everyone is progressing nicely, and we are all excellent fighters. I believe many of them shall also be promoted soon enough.”

“Marked competition between the squads, huh? Lilia’s squad always has to beat the others out,” Bentley remarked, rudely cutting into the line of dancers and leaning against the brick wall of Blizzard Breakers. The action caused stifled whispers of scathing remarks about the young knight and her friends. Lilia was about to answer his claim when she saw her cue to enter the parade, passing a few minutes in.

Lilia proceeded to cut off Sapphira, who was adding in her own piece, “Ah, dammit, I have to go. I will see you two later!”

Lilia leaped into the back line of the parade, followed swiftly by her troupe. She began the dance with a large, loud move that her troupe attempted to assist in flourish. The dance had never been anything of spectacular effort for Lilia, not compared to the fierce training her mother ordered on all of the Alexandrian soldiers. No—it was, in fact, quite a joy for Lilia when it came down to the matter, simply because it got her blood pumping and her spirits high. She almost thought of it as a warm up, with the blurring faces, the speed of the move, the strength of the legs, arms, and back that it took to do the jump, flips, tosses and turns while moving forward on the cobblestones. Lilia felt her face break out in a sweat, the cool breeze born of the Ceebell River assuring her body was receiving its daily portion of a workout. She could see the girls behind her in the dance, miraculous swans swimming though a sea of stray confetti, and all appeared to be absolutely impeccable in their technique. Her tall frame met with slight resistance at the ever-growing crowd, and she struggled to see anyone she knew, but all washed away in her acute, sharp concentration. Two girls then threw her ribbons, and she decorated her dance with the flowing purple flags of color.

It was harder for her to sense danger when she was absolved to complete her job in sheer movement, and she somehow failed to immediately sense the apprehension lurking on many faces in the crowd.

At one point she spotted the king and queen in their usual spot, elevated from the street on top of a movable contraption. It was designed with their safety in mind, and was surrounded by various Knights of Pluto. Lilia performed her usual flag-wave at the two, who waved back in response, flanked by their three children. Lilia caught a glimpse of Crystal, looking absolutely smitten, a blush firing over her porcelain cheeks, fanning herself in the heat of the spring day. Zerrick, their oldest son, was clutching onto the rails in great interest. Jagger, their youngest son, made a show of jumping all around the structure, allowing his tail to do the work of swinging from bar to bar. Garnet was made busy trying to get the boy to come down from the heights, and Zidane was hooting at the scene all the while.

Lilia returned her attentions back to the dance, but a slight jostle of the crowd and hushed voices told her something wasn’t quite right. At once, the parade stopped and Lilia clambered into a flutist in front of her, falling to the cobblestones below. Mortified, she raised her gaze to meet the many she was expecting in scrutiny, but instead found the crowd’s attention focused directly ahead. The young knight quickly got to her feet, dropped her ribbons, and dashed over to what she thought must have caused the scene. Before she could get there, screams started erupting and the people of Alexandria began running away from the area where Lilia skidded to a halt. Right before her eyes was a street brawl, one consuming both Alexandrian soldiers and other unknown forces. With her knight’s instinct and duty kicking in, she searched for a sword she could steal. She spotted a girl from another squad cowering in a corner on the opposite street, so she made up her mind to dash over and take the sword from the girl’s quivering hands. The girl looked at once offended and relieved by Lilia’s behavior.

“You will not serve in this army one minute longer if you cannot fight for your queen!” Lilia spat at her, eyes boring into the other, the chill mortification of certain ejection from the army an imminent threat. Lilia growled at the younger girl while she sweat furiously, and proceeded to bolt in the direction of the riot. Without her armor, she found that she was faster than ever, the adrenaline pumping through her body enough to grant her a taste of invincibility. She reached the scene with immense grace, as if she were still dancing, and all the brawlers and soldiers noticed her presence immediately. Most knew exactly who she was and decided to call it quits on the fight. A few men of the street simply grinned at her in second hand embarrassment, still willing to pick a fight with the greatest sword fighter that the country had seen since Beatrix.

“Do you have any idea who you are proposing to fight, gentlemen?” Lilia inquired, reaching out her free hand for an answer. The men scoffed at her profession, and readied themselves for a fight.

“You’re just a stupid little girl in a leotard!” One of the men retorted, eliciting ostentatious sniggers from the others. Lilia singled out his speech and claimed her own smile.

“Ah, so you would be the ring leader of this little circus. Allow me to invite you to a showing of real leadership.”

Before the men could supply any more smart remarks, Lilia had done a flip in midair, landing in the center of criminals, her sword projected outwards in fighting stance. One of the overly confident men attempted to stab Lilia’s exposed back, but she quickly redressed the balance and swung the sword over his throat before he had a chance to reach her. The Alexandrian soldiers on the outlier scuttled away. Another man saw his opportunity and tried to catch her midriff, but her learned stance permitted her just a touch more agility. She caught him over his face, the man screaming with pain as her hot steel ruined the aesthetics of his appearance. The next two men backed away for just a moment as Lilia began to recognize the fear in their faces, at once only just realizing that she actually was the daughter of the two strongest warriors in Alexandrian history.

“Y-You! You really are—

“The daughter of the famed General Beatrix Steiner and Captain Adelbert Steiner? Yes, I do believe I informed you of that before this little tiff. Did you not consider that one of the three of us would come and stop you?” Lilia replied smartly, raising her sword in her signature-fighting stance. “Do not fool yourself in that the recognition of my status will grant you your life back. You have disrupted a royal ceremony and challenged my knights. You will die on these streets, traitors!”

Lilia stepped quickly over to the man on her right with what seemed like an impossible amount of agility. And though they clashed swords in his attempt to block, Lilia flipped around and back-handedly cleaved her blade right through the top of his skull, leaving his brain bared and guts flying to the stones. At this moment, Lilia had inwardly hoped that all parents had removed their children from the scene of the fight.

The leader of the group was seen running in the other direction with his men, looking back to snarl at her in contempt. He lifted up his arm to bare the inside of his right wrist marked with an insignia of a dripping black rose. Lilia shouted after them, simply puzzled at the revelation of the tattoo. They eventually got away, despite Lilia trying to dash after them.

She felt a hand on her shoulder holding her back.

“W-What is the meaning of this? They are escaping!” she screamed, inconsolable. She made note of who was holding her shoulder. It was her father. Her looked down upon her proudly, but shook his head in insistence and Lilia tried to wriggle free from him.

“Let them go, Lilia. You are in no position to be fighting them in your current state.”

Lilia was incredulous.

“I had them, father, you saw! I had them!! Those scoundrels were no match for me!”

Steiner simply shook his head. He understood perfectly how she felt about letting them get away, but fatherhood and being spouse to Beatrix had cooled his hot-head down in recent years.

“Today is not that day. You dissolved the brawl—that was duty enough for you. Look at yourself,” Steiner commented, pointing at the blood and gore strewn all over Lilia’s gangly limbs. “You need to go and get yourself clean and cured before the ceremony. We will speak later about what you saw here today. Are we understood?”

The girl began to calm down, her breath coming back into its usual evenness. She looked at herself as her father instructed, and it was true—she was covered in an obscene amount of blood and gore, which she could feel soak through her outfit into her skin. She decided that her father was probably wise enough to know when to quit a fight.

“Hey!”

Zidane and Garnet made way through the crowds, flanked by the Knights of Pluto.

“Is everyone okay over here?” Zidane asked, finding his answer by the bodies that lay strewn on the cobblestone. Steiner was quick to answer for his daughter.

“Yes, your majesty, all of importance are accounted for,” Steiner exclaimed, saluting the two. Garnet kneeled down to check one of the bodies and found that there was no pulse.

“We are going to have to get the medical team over here to transport the bodies to the crypt to be cremated. They won’t do any good lying in the streets,” Garnet ordered, looking up at her longtime personal guard. The man nodded and clanked off towards the castle. The queen peered over to Lilia’s soiled face and attire, causing a shadow of doubt to cast in the back her mind. Garnet betrayed her puzzlement, eyes reflecting both shock and pity for the young solider.

“This is not your first human kill, I presume?”

Lilia shook her head in response, seeming to find a strange solace in a particular smear on the stones. The queen adopted a stance of soft, quiet contemplation.

“Ah, yes. As I recall…it was not,” Garnet finally answered, hand raised to feel the lump in her throat. “It is a hard thing to come to terms with, surely. I don’t know that it ever does get easier…”

Zidane moved over to help her up from her kneeling position, and Garnet remedied her balance once at her feet, raven strands of hair fluttering around lightly. She had more to add on the matter of death in her streets, but when she turned to speak to the young knight, she had already begun trotting up the way to the dock.

 

*********

In the passing years, Queen Garnet had decided that she would much like to decorate the dungeon chamber where she nearly met her demise as a young girl. The entire platform was erected for the extraction of eidolons from summoners who had just come of age, as Princess Crystal Jane Til Alexandros I had, but the chamber sat purposeless once the practice was banned in the Mist Continent. It always nagged Garnet that she would somehow need the chamber for something very important.

She created the wide, hollowed out room into a mystical shrine for summoners, mainly to be used by her cousin, Eiko, and herself. Both women took the time out in recent years to read both Madain Sari’s ancient wall inscriptions and texts in order to better understand the summoner tribe’s traditions. Eiko could somehow understand the language being used, as it spoke to her through her horn. Garnet had no such luxury, and was forced to learn the language simply by reading it over and over again. Both eventually understood an immense amount about their heritage and culture.

It was tradition to honor any summoner to come of age with a ceremony to celebrate coming into full control of their summoning ability. This feat hadn’t come easy for Crystal, but she was a trained summoner very young and the ceremony was her right. And while her siblings could summon as well, they had little interest in the craft.

Garnet didn’t want her daughter to miss out on their cultural heritage, and thus Eiko and she aptly decided to put her through the ceremony. It wasn’t unlike the one Eiko undergone of her own volition not long ago. Hers took place in Madain Sari with crows and crows of people gathered in the tiny space. A very young Crystal remembered being so enamored by the entire ceremony, the sights, the laughter, the tears, the song, the dance, the feast, the ritual. She could remember the sunset reflecting off the bay waters, remembered people swimming, splashing, and kissing in the nostalgic light. She remembered her introduction to the Eidolon Wall, how her mother collapsed to her knees and cried for an hour in front of Bahamut’s mural, how she knelt next to her as she sobbed and held on so tightly to her arm she thought her mother might lose the extremity. But she adored her mother more than anyone in the world, and knew she wanted to be just like her. Powerful. Lovely. Spiritual.

Eiko was always an idol to her. Crystal remembered Eiko as a teenager, whispering in her ear that she would amount to as much as she ever did, if not more. She took the young, raven-haired girl by the hand and gently brought her into the world of summoning magic. Eiko was her mentor and taught her the vast majority of everything she knew in summoning skills and white magic. She became masterful at performing both. The two used to train in Madain Sari, in Lindblum, and in Alexandria. The training in abilities and the summoners’ language was vigorous and never easy to Crystal, but those times were her fondest memories and the best of her life.

Crystal’s clear, true blue eyes shined when those memories resurfaced as she walked down the long aisle of the former dungeon, now a church or shrine of sorts. Her glass slippers echoed through the walkway, people flanking her in pews on either side. Most of the people she didn’t know—most of them were Lindblumese royals, Trenian nobles, or Burmecian dragoon knights. The front of the room was decorated in sparkling draperies of silk with dazzling diamonds strewn throughout the fabrics, much like the veil covering her face. The walls were recently decorated with murals of each summon similar to the ones in Madain Sari. Each summon was enchanted with a spell as protectorate of any summoner present in the castle. The staff in her hands was found in Madain Sari, likely the staff the tribe leader used to summon Alexander in the olden days. Her garb was a tight-fitting white dress but made complex with glittering, cerulean stitching of summoner’s prayers, and feathers to top off around her cleavage.It was designed in a way to hide her tail, something she often liked to do as she was quite insecure about how it looked behind her. On her head just above her horn, rest a crown, encrusted with the crushed rainbow of jewels representing each one of her summons. 

Crystal’s eyes travelled over each mural on her slow march, eyes resting on Alexander, her most favored summon. The holy angel’s wings gave her instant relief from her nerves, and it almost seemed to nod at her as she marched on. She looked away into the pews, spotting her father in the front right. He was beaming at her intently, very clearly delighted by her accomplishments. She smiled back at him, and while not able to wave, she nodded her head just as she felt Alexander had done to her.

She began to reach the front of the long aisle when she noticed there was incense burning behind Eiko, officiator of the ceremony. On Eiko’s right, Steiner knelt before his princess, and Beatrix held the same position on her left. She looked eagerly behind Eiko, and there she stood, her beautiful, ever-youthful mother. Her mother glowed in the light of a bible that rest in her hands, a book imbued with a spell to lock-in each and every summon so that they wouldn’t overwhelm the people in their influence.

As she reached the point where Eiko stood, she noticed the organ music blaring, Alexandrian choir singing ancient songs from Madain Sari. On the organ was none other than the Queen’s Hand, Leopoldine. The woman had been something of a wonder—not very talented at many things as was Lilia, but excellent at the position she held while also being somewhat of a virtuoso in her musical craft. The oldest of the next generation eyed Eiko, searching for a signal of when to stop playing. Eiko looked behind her at Leopoldine and nodded her head, her face not lending itself to seriousness. Leopoldine cracked a smile herself just before ceasing to play, and Crystal felt funny about that particular exchange between the two of them.

Still, her attention was brought away from that when Eiko reached out to lift the veil from her face. And there she stood, skin bright and pale, sapphire eyes shimmering like the port island itself. Eiko gasped at her exquisiteness and ran her fingers down the young girl’s cheek. A solemn tear fell from the girl’s mother as she also noted the girl’s splendor in all that she was. The girl held undisputable powers, no doubt, making her a sure force to be reckoned with in any kingdom.

Crystal truly understood what it meant to belong to the world.

“We are gathered here today to witness the confirmation of Summoner Crystal Jane Til Alexandros I,” Eiko began, addressing the gathering. “Kneel down before me, summoner.”

Crystal obeyed and knelt before Eiko. Above her, Garnet passed the glowing book over and the congregation spurted out their first saying, mostly unsure, in the ancient language at Eiko’s command. The ruler of Lindblum continued on with an ancient speech and prayer for about five minutes.

Eventually, her crown began to glow as the sacred words were spoken, echoing through the hall as if spoken from the Heavens above. Then, all was silent.

“Peridot.”

Crystal heard the voice ringing very clearly in her head and stood as she was instructed, turning to the audience and looking into each and every one of their faces. She spotted Lilia and her brother in the front right row and grinned inwardly.

Suddenly, the girl began twirling in dance upon the platform. Eiko and Garnet moved back as the girl performed, her skirt flying in a frenzy, her staff wielded with great power and precision. Every move had been practiced to perfection, and the congregation mooned over her grace and beauty as she pirouetted, swayed, and frolicked back and forth.

Bolts of lightning hammered to the ground with the sudden swift movement of her staff, sending vibrations throughout the chamber. Ramuh made his appearance in her midst, floating down from the roof, striking reverence and fear into everyone who laid eyes upon the god of lightning. After Ramuh had disappeared, Leviathan made his appearance, mildly soaking everyone present.

Crystal did not cease her dance. She moved with as much refinement as she had started with.

Summon after summon appeared before her, proof of her powers from the glow of the crown on top of her head. Finally, it came down to the last summon: Alexander. 

Crystal was miraculously jerked from her dance as her limp body catapulted into the air, majestically floating before her people, the wings of Alexander enveloping her in a final show of veneration, before gingerly dropping her onto the extraction stand. 

Eiko and Garnet immediately rushed over and performed Curaga on her at once, her eyes fluttering open as Garnet held her head in her arms.

This was all part of the ceremony. It was expected that Crystal would collapse in exhaustion by the end, as Eiko had done, and many before her. The crowd erupted into cheers and applause. Garnet struggled to wipe away her tears as she held her daughter in earnest, incredibly aware of the immeasurable supremacy and poise that she possessed.

“She’s finally here. She is finally one of The Ancients,” Garnet whispered. Eiko nodded as she once again ran a hand down the teenager’s face, brushing sweaty strands from her forehead.

“You passed the trial, Crystal,” Eiko whispered to her, and the girl beamed with the ferocity of the sunshine that beat down upon Madain Sari.

*********

It had been just about the longest table that she had ever seen.

Of course, she was used to the royal dining hall due to living in the castle her whole life, but Lilia had never seen the amount of food present, nor had she ever seen the table so long with so many people in attendance.

She sat somewhere in the middle of the right side of the table next to her mother and Eiko. Across from her were Leopoldine and Zerrick while Garnet and Crystal were on each end of the table. Others in attendance were scattered about, but Lilia knew most of the faces intimately. It was as if they were all one large family, even incorporating non-royals such as herself in the celebration.

The feelings present were usually always good. Lilia, however, was very receptive to changes in energy from those around her, as was necessary for battle in knighthood should the army ever go to war. This allowed her to be quite adept at reading people.

Eiko was always the first one to chime in during dinner. “We simply cannot express how proud we are of you, Crystal, darling.”

Garnet was always the second one to speak, if concerning her children. “Everything went exactly as planned. We knew, of course, that you would pass the trial into becoming a full-fledged summoner.”

“We never doubted your abilities for a moment, Princess!” Steiner said.

The table consented to this sentiment in nods of agreement, as everyone was attempting to eat politely without expressing their delight verbally, spewing bits of chewed up food all over the table. Lilia smirked at her very best companion, who cocked an eyebrow in return. Crystal and she had been so close in age; it was almost as if they were really sisters, though Leopoldine and Crystal looked much more alike.

Crystal scrunched up her face for a second, her eyes darting towards Leopoldine, whom Lilia herself glanced at. Lilia didn’t understand what Crystal was referring to, so she turned back to the princess.

“What?” Lilia mouthed.

Crystal then nodded her head in the direction of Eiko, and then Lilia grasped what Crystal was indicating. Eiko and Leopoldine had been staring intently into each other’s eyes for quite a while. Lilia recoiled at the sight and quickly went back to working on her dinner plate. Neither of the two older women noticed the young ones observing them.

Eiko smiled in an uncharacteristically shy way while looking at Leopoldine, whose face was usually unreadable. “And Lea! What a magnificent job you did you with the masterful musical composition at the ceremony. It really set the mood…”

Leopoldine bowed her head, yet not returning the smile. “Thank you, Your Highness. Your accolades are greatly esteemed.”

Eiko acted satisfied with the outcome of the interaction and placed a tongue indiscreetly inside her cheek before picking at her food. Her shoulder length, purple hair fell down as she leaned in, covering her subsequent expression. Crystal redirected her attention to the boy sitting right beside her. The boy immediately raised his head from his meal to meet her gaze.

“Oh! And we forgot to mention, Fredryk is going to be staying with us for a while to train with Beatrix and Steiner, authorized of course by Freya and Sir Fratley!” Zidane suddenly chimed in. All eyes were on the boy as he slowly scanned the faces. A flush emerged beneath his rather bluish fur tone. His parents nodded in agreement while the table proceeded to clap for him.

“We wanted him to be trained in every type of combat so that he can be Burmecia’s best dragoon knight,” Freya commented, patting her son on the shoulder. Fredryk continued to blush furiously. He was not the type to take compliments very well and was extremely humble in all his interactions.

“And since all has been forgiven between the kingdoms, I don’t believe this should pose any problems to either party,” Fratley added understanding the hesitation some may feel at the very idea.

“And we shall train him well—to ensure that he will become the best knight that he can be. Beatrix and I have a different set of skills, of course, so he will get much variety in his training,” Steiner interjected, placing a hand on his wife’s thigh, she resting her hand on his in turn.

Lilia stared very hard at Fredryk, recognizing that the boy stopped his blushing and suddenly looked very solemn. It troubled her greatly that he wouldn’t make eye contact with her or her parents. While examining Fredryk’s reaction, Lilia caught Zerrick’s eye. He was grinning warmly at her from down her side of the table. Lilia made a motion to return the favor until she saw him turn to his girlfriend, Claudia King. Zerrick kissed her, and Lilia shrank back into her seat attempting to look as if his show of affection didn’t affect her.

Lilia always had strong feelings for the older boy, who was Zidane’s man in charge when he wasn’t around. It had been for good reason, however, as one would be hard-pressed to find a kinder, gentler, passionate, yet ambitious man.

Much like his parents, he enjoyed adventure, travel, and treasure hunting. He was also quite good at thieving, though his mother generally disapproved of his yearning to practice.

‘You don’t need to learn that skill, Zerrick. You have everything you could ever need in life, and are fortunate for it,’ his mother would say to him.

He didn’t heed her concerns, and his father secretly taught him the complex trade of banditry. Rather it had been a secret up until Garnet discovered it.

For Lilia, the problem with him was that he was dating one of her relatives. Claudia was a noble in Treno, and she recently moved to the castle in what was thought to be a future marriage proposal. Lilia didn’t know much about her heritage as her mother refused to talk about it much, except that her grandmother’s maiden name was King and that she owned financial interest in the King Family Auction House. This made Claudia a cousin on her mother’s side.

Lilia didn’t know how Claudia and Zerrick’s match came to be, but they seemed physically suited. Claudia's pale golden hair lay long against her ivory skin, framing her icy, deep set eyes and button nose. Her strong chin rounded out her features in a way that emphasized her strong character. Zerrick’s appearance was similar with minor differences. He sported light brown hair instead of the stark blonde, and he sported his tail proudly, a sign of his heritage.

Lilia found herself envious of Claudia’s obvious beauty. She surmised that astonishing genes must lie on her mother’s side, possibly from the Beatrix’s father’s (Griffin) side, but most likely from her mother’s (King) side.

Lilia snapped out of her mid-dinner daydream and her attention coasted back to Eiko and her sister, who were still staring at each other in a plentiful fashion. Lilia couldn’t figure for the life of her why they were doing so. As far as she knew, there was no real history between the two.

Abruptly, Leopoldine put down her silverware, threw her napkin upon the table after a dab of the mouth, and excused herself. She was an extremely hard woman to read, and most always had a stone-faced expression while in front of company. Her parents drew back in astonishment at the young woman’s rare breach of conduct.

“Leopoldine!!” Steiner screeched as she attempted to walk away from the table. “Just where do you think you’re going?! The banquet has not yet finished and you have not been properly dismissed!!”

Leopoldine’s gaze rolled slowly over her shoulder to look at the long rows of people at the table, a vast darkness consuming the plane of her face. Someone at the table began to choke ever so slightly on their food. It came from Eiko’s general direction.

“I am sorry, everyone. It is simply that I do not feel quite well this evening and do wish to retire.”

“It’s quite alright, Lea. You have had an exhausting day. You may be excused,” Garnet interjected before Steiner could argue with her. Steiner, being quite practiced in his experience with Garnet, knew not to speak over her.

Leopoldine nodded gratefully at the queen and left the banquet hall, silence in her wake.

Beatrix irately whipped her head in Steiner’s direction, her hefty curls flying.

“Adelbert, I do not understand why you always have to make a show of it when she has even a toe out of line. She is consistently gracious, ever-loyal, and performs perfectly in all her duties benefitting Alexandria. Please, keep your distastes to yourself while in the presence of friends and family,” Beatrix whisper-yelled at her husband, still loudly enough for everyone to hear. Steiner never argued with or belittled his wife in front of others, so he kept bitterly quiet for the rest of the night.

“Huh…. strange…” Lilia thought to herself as she attempted to block herself from listening to the tense conversations of the present moment.

*********  
It wasn’t unusual for Beatrix to take a lofty midnight walk when she couldn’t sleep, especially as she climbed the hill of middle age. She was careful not to stir her husband in his restful slumber while taking her sword out of its encasing. Many times she was in her nightgown while walking; the off white, flowing fabrics covered only the most intimate parts of her body, garnering whispers from the night watch and the Alexandrian people alike. Beatrix simply didn’t care anymore. She was still the esteemed knight that she’d always been, and still as skillful, though slowing down considerably, both in body and mind. As a result, she did not care who observed her aging body on these walks, so long as she took care not to be completely in the nude. Steiner had known about these walks for the most part and didn’t much care for them as he knew of both their decelerating conditions of age.

Still, Beatrix felt confident she could protect herself from anything. No one ever dared to challenge the most famed general on Gaia, especially not in this town. Even after two decades, people still fled from her view whenever she approached.

“In cold blood.”

These words had seeped into the very darkest corners of her psyche. In cold blood. Cold blooded killer. It is enough to make one wish they’d never entered into such a life, such a contract as this. To protect the queen, to protect the people, is it worth the undeviating blemishes? The red and brown pigments that infiltrate her nightmares and have made every waking moment teeter on the brink of insanity?

It was only in recent years that Beatrix felt she’d come to terms with her acts. Being able to talk it over with Steiner, who also had a great understanding of the terms of death, had always been able to keep her from crossing that terminal line.

There were many reasons why choosing to be his wife was the best decision she’d ever made, though she never did think it would be him. She never thought it would be anyone. She’d always assumed that she would die alone or in the fervor of fight. But blood is the rose of mysterious union, after all…

And she pondered this many a night, a promenade along, the cobblestones sounding out in soft pats underneath her calloused feet. She proudly mused upon her oldest daughter, being the beautiful, kind, polite, and overall glorious being that she was. She reminded her of herself, but more wise and good. Lilia worried her a bit more. The young paladin reminded her far too much of a frightening cross between her two parents as young adults. In pairing with this recognition, there was also the horrendous, insufferable, constant fear of losing the girl to war if it were ever to happen.

It would be very soon that Beatrix and Steiner choose to step down, but they discussed that they would do so together. Their marriage truly had no bounds—everything they did, they did as a team. But they knew the result of this would likely be Lilia stepping in as General of the Alexandrian Army.

And that prospect had frightened them to unspeakable proportions. It was late April, and Lilia had just turned 17 as of few weeks ago. Leopoldine would be 21 in early September, Beatrix was turning 50 next month, and Steiner already turned 55 back in March.

The general attempted to throw this thought out of her mind and just enjoy the fresh air and cool breeze that made its way to her shapely, yet muscular frame. She observed the happenings in the town and could see the only activity in her vicinity was of criminals and thieves, all who dashed away into alleys upon seeing her approach. Beatrix stopped in her tracks and shook her head before reenacting her signature hair flip.

“I still cannot get the people to trust me, I see,” she whispered to herself, knowing that she hadn’t done an honest thing to connect with the people since she helped with the reconstruction of Alexandria and Burmecia. This brought her to a different thought—Fredryk did not trust her, or anyone in her bloodline.

Beatrix sauntered a little further towards the entrance of the city. She’d only made it past where the riotous brawl had been when she spotted an older man covered in rags and filth, slumped over, out in the open, over a couple bottles of beer. The general found herself a strange feeling about this particular man, though he was no different from the rest. She walked over to the man to get a closer inspection. He had commenced upon burping and laughing manically as she approached, then she was close enough to get a good look at his face. It was only a split second later that she realized that she knew that face. The man grinned up at her.

Beatrix recoiled.

“Still stunning as ever, I see. Three decades has not changed you one bit, save a few laugh lines,” he spluttered at the general. A clear look of horror washed over her face.

She knew that accent. It was Trenian, much like her own had been in her youth.

“But how could you possibly…?” Beatrix whispered in disbelief, her singular eye wide with fear, her mouth quivering with anticipation of his answer.

The man could do nothing but keep on his wild laughing, and Beatrix shook her head fiercely. She began backing away slowly, the sword in her hand shaking. The sword was raised with rash decision with the intent to run him through, but Beatrix remained frozen in place.

The man picked up upon her hesitation, “What is it Trixie…where is that cold-blooded general that we all know and love?”

Her jaw clenched and she raised her sword higher, ready to strike, just before realizing that she simply couldn’t. Arms dropped to back to her sides, the sword slipped from her grip.

The man continued to rage with senseless mirth, rolling onto his stomach as if to vomit. His eyes glazed over, silvery in their blissful incoherence.

Beatrix didn’t wait to see what would happen next. She sprinted as fast as she could towards the dock.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author’s notes:
> 
> I really hope you all are enjoyed my revamped story thus far. A couple of things to note:
> 
> The ceremony was indeed inspired by Yuna of FFX. I’m not so very original, but I hope you all enjoyed this scene anyway because it was the most fun to write thus far.
> 
> I am sorry about all the character descriptions, but I believe they are necessary so that you may visualize each character and get a sense of who they are as people.
> 
> If you read “Bones of an Idol”, my old fanfiction, some of the characters are markedly different in personality. I think the vignettes I have created for them will suit them much better this time around.
> 
> Yes, I did steal a line from “Peace Frog” by The Doors. Love me some Jimmy.


	3. The Neighbor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Strange violin, why do you follow me?  
> In how many foreign cities did you  
> speak of your lonely nights and those of mine.  
> Are you being played by hundreds? Or by one?
> 
> Do in all great cities men exist  
> who tormented and in deep despair  
> would have sought the river but for you?  
> And why does your playing always reach me?
> 
> Why is it that I am always neighbor  
> to those lost ones who are forced to sing  
> and to say: Life is infinitely heavier  
> than the heaviness of all things.
> 
> \--Rainer Maria Rilke, “The Neighbor”

To be in love with the craft of music—it was the only thing she had ever found true solace in.

Yes, she relished in her duties as Hand of the Queen, a new position created by Queen Garnet, who had appointed her. Many of the royals and even her parents were duly impressed by her perfect manners, her tact, her charm, and her quiet, contemplative nature. When she had been a small girl, she would often blurt out words of wisdom during meetings, when no one expected a peep from her (and usually, she never did make a peep at all). She could vividly remember the expressions her parents held—her father blue in the face, crossed, ready to strike her, and her mother quite clearly in the camp of “pleasantly bewildered”. It was when she turned 16 that Garnet told her she had found “the perfect job” for the young Leopoldine, and the oldest of the Steiner girls had took it in stride.

But music had always been her first love, and potentially her only true love. At the age of three, as soon as she could talk and reach the keys, Beatrix sought out to teach her toddler piano, a skill that the paladin had learned as a young girl and fostered throughout her life. Leopoldine funneled all her energy and fascination into this craft, and soon she needed a teacher better than Beatrix that could help her develop her skillset. Soon, she mastered piano and moved onto the violin, and then other instruments. She was once offered recruitment into a famous orchestra in Lindblum, but she did not want to leave her beloved kingdom.

So, she became hand of the queen. But that never deterred Leopoldine from keeping up with her treasured craft. She often sat practicing in her room, the most with violin as of late, gently pressing to the strings one by one, feeling those cherished vibrations in her fingers, the blissful sounds of the strings being played in harmony with each other, the climax of the grand finale of a tune, all things that moved her on a spiritual level. It was not uncommon for Leopoldine to get lost in her music, to get lost in the sensations that in brought about in her body—the rapturous abyss, the washing away of reality, allowing her to slough off the stress of her daily works. 

Leopoldine had been practicing her violin, as she felt she had neglected it far too much in the passing days. With the instruments, with her music, she felt that she could truly let go and be who she really was, which was not something that she felt was easy to do when she was in the public eye. It was forbidden that anyone enter her room while she occupied it unless a dire emergency was at hand—which was why she was broke out of her bliss zone and brought back down to reality with a large crash when someone knocked on the door. Swiftly, she took her bow from the strings, noises stopped, dropping the tool in shock. She scrambled to pick it back up before muttering, rather angrily, “Well if you must, do come in…”

The door opened slowly and the first thing Leopoldine spotted was Lady Eiko’s straight, thick, shoulder length purple hair and lone horn, slowly tracking down to her expression, which was that of the biggest, cheesiest toothy grin Leopoldine thought she had ever seen. The lady regent was dressed in an extravagant gown of deep purple, having magnificent yellow and pink accents throughout, her long, pointed fingers decked out in various rings, and a broad, intricate, multi-faced diamond necklace gleaming across her collarbones. The necklace shone brilliantly upon the stiffened features of her face, which were in every sense ironic, because she was such a carefree type of spirit. Leopoldine had deduced it was because her adoptive mother, Lady Hilda, had bore much of the same sour expression, but perhaps it was simply genetic, as she could see the same in Garnet’s line. 

“Goodness!” Leopoldine blurted out nervously as Eiko stepped into her room without much notice, folding her arms over her obviously exposed bust. Leopoldine made a move to put her violin and bow away into its case. “I was not expecting Your Grace at this hour, as I assumed you took leave for Lindblum already. If you’ll excuse my discretion in vulgarity…”

Eiko shrugged her shoulders in response, eliciting a blush from Leopoldine. “I am interested to see you in states where you are not so guarded, Lea.”

Leopoldine glanced down at her shoes and then out of her large window opposite her, unsure of what to say, blushing evermore zealously. It was no secret to her that Eiko had aroused an incredible nervousness in every bone of her tiny body. Eiko scoffed silently and walked over to the window, at once turning back around to face the young woman, late morning light spilling in from behind her back, causing for a halo of glow to encase her entire frame. 

“I-Is there something that you require of me, Y-Your Highness?” Leopoldine spluttered, a bit incredulous at what was transpiring between the two of them. The regent nodded her head, stepping closer to where Leopoldine sat.

“Why yes, in fact there is, which is the very reason I have come to your room at this time!” Eiko answered, a lead of something slightly mischevious in her voice. Leopoldine began to feel herself sweat.

She continued, “You are the appointed Hand of the Queen, correct? Well I have a bit of a job for you, starting at the beginning of next week. I would like for you to travel to Lindblum for a diplomatic mission.”

Leopoldine’s head perked upwards, and she fixed her sitting position as she noticed that she had began to slouch, watching the words roll insufferably slowly from Eiko’s pink lips.

“A diplomatic mission? And what might that entail?”

“Oh, there are just some nobles who are a little bit skeptical of our alliance with Alexandria, being that many of them have not yet forgiven the current queen for her mother’s actions against the nation. But I feel confident you will be able to charm the knickers off of them, if you do so please.”

Leopoldine’s face scrunched up confusion, trying to recall why exactly she would be the best candidate. A heavy breeze shot through the window, causing for Eiko’s hair to tousle up in a frenzy, appearing as if she had just woken up. The young woman felt evermore strange as time passed between the two of them. 

“I still do not quite conceive of why I am…the primary candidate that came to the forefront of your mind, Your Majesty,” Leopoldine finally spoke, the truest confusion present in her ruby-tinged, large brown eyes. Eiko’s own sapphire blues sparked.

“What, did you believe that I would ask Queen Garnet to leave her throne for this type of work?”

Leopoldine relented, “No, no, of course I did not think of that—

“Then what is the problem? Will you go?”

The regent’s eyes shined so very brightly and vigorously that Leopoldine believed herself blinded for a moment. 

“Um…yes, yes Your Majesty, I will attend to matters in Lindblum of diplomatic nature, surely,” Leopoldine finally answered, scratching her head in a mixture of confusion and what she recognized as excitement. “But I must ask, if you would allow me to do so…why are the nobles feeling the sting of revulsion after all this time?”

Eiko sauntered up to her, gradually getting closer and closer to Leopoldine’s face. She could smell Leopoldine’s perfume in the breeze that infiltrated the entire room. 

“Eh, the next generation is getting ideas about some things that happened to their parents. Nothing that you will not be able to smooth over, I think, Lady Lea,” Eiko said as she brushed off the young hand’s concerns, and stood above her, tall and forceful next to her tiny, seated body. Leopoldine began to feel rather uncomfortable and shifted herself slightly so that her legs were now crossed, a gesture of irritation. 

“I-Is there anything else you require of me, Your Grace?” Leopoldine asked the regent, stimulating a look of disappointment from Eiko, who held her hands out, then clapped them together, and paired with a suppressed smile, it was clear that her business was finished in this arena. Leopoldine tugged at her wishes no further, and stood up to escort the woman out of the room, holding her arm out and bowing as Eiko passed her. The older woman suddenly pivoted sharply in the door frame. 

“The Hilda Garde 5 will be here to pick you up and fly you to the castle at 7 a.m. sharp on Wednesday. Please leave your affairs arranged!” 

In her classic chipper fashion, Eiko did a sort of mini-skip as she pranced away, leaving the hand to watch her ruefully as she noisily made her way down the corridor and out of sight. Leopoldine then shut her door quietly, and leaned against it, hand on her heart, eyes wide and hard on the dark wood of her floor, the flush still present on her skin.

“What…in God’s name…was that?”

*********

“You must never present an opening for the enemy to see…never a weakness!”

The seasoned General of Alexandria had very specific codes in training her soldiers, so that they might become the best in the land. This was a very important prospect for the army, since one never knew when war was to hit. With some of the happenings and whispers about town as of late, Alexandria wasn’t exactly in the best foreign policy position, globally. The next generation had grown up and taken their own seats of power after many retirements, and many of them were angry. They had not forgotten, nor would they, what had happened to their parents and grandparents. 

This was part of Fredryck’s problem. While on the surface his parents appeared to have forgiven the general for her heinous acts, it was clear that the young adults in Burmecia were not so easy to forgive. The question often was, “why is Queen Garnet still on the throne? Why was she on the throne at all?”

They did not understand that nothing that transpired was her fault in the slightest, but because she shares the grand surname, she was, of course to blame. And Beatrix had not avoided the fire; she had hardly been able to slough off the majority of the scathing criticism in the many passing years.

Fredryck positioned himself against the Eastern Barrack wall, where Lilia’s squad kept their quarters. Lilia glanced over at him after missing in a swing at her mother. Quick as she was, she did not quite possess the dexterity that her mother did. 

He was blanketed in shade, his beige hat laying low on his brow, arms and legs crossed in a gesture of stubborn restraining, his gargantuan, heavy lance at rest in his right hand. Lilia could feel his red hot glare from underneath his disguise. Beatrix realized what her daughter was preoccupied with, and snapped her fingers multiple times.

“Now, Lilia. You must focus! Do not worry on Fredryck; he is supposed to be learning skills from your father. I suspect he shall be looking for him right about now…”

Lilia refocused herself, and placed herself in fighting stance. She charged at her mother with a robust roar, going in for a diagonal chest slash, which her mother easily blocked and retaliated from with a sincere upward jut towards Lilia’s throat, which she, in turn, blocked just as easily with a vertical sword hilt thrust. Lilia countered with a spin to dodge her mother’s next lunge, and made a play to swing at the left side of her neck, which Beatrix ducked to avoid. Lilia jumped backwards and swung her sword around in a circular motion, before angrily and hastily charging at her mother with the intent to perform an overhead strike, and before coming down to complete the blow, she felt something jam itself proudly into her gut, winding her.

“Urgh!” 

The young knight rolled to the ground, wheezing and hacking, holding her torso, tears forming. She reluctantly peered at her mother’s singular eye, defeated. Beatrix stepped over to her slowly, and jammed the tip of her blade into the ground, resting on the legendary Save the Queen. Her expression was that of gentle, certain understanding. Lilia made a point to look over at Fredryck, but he had already departed from the scene. 

“Darling, I’ve told you not to charge at your opponent in a fit of rage. You almost always miss the opponent’s opportunity, and if they’re a fit warrior, they will strike you and you will surely fall.”

Lilia spit indignantly onto the ground, looking as if she were about to retch up the contents of her breakfast.

“Remember…calm, collected precision always comes out on top. It is something both your father and I had to learn in the stern nature of our training,” Beatrix recalled, searching the horizon for his form, or the sound of his clanking. “But come to think of it, he never really did understand that concept until much later on, but alas…”

Lilia threw a gauntleted hand up in the air and waved her off before stumbling to her feet, resting at once on her broadsword, and breathing heavily. Beatrix’s face hardened at her daughter’s attempt to ward off her advice.

“You are never going to master the skills needed to become a leader if you do not heed my counsel,” Beatrix noted, prompting a sneer from her daughter. “Do not start this today, or you will be dismissed!”

“I’m just tired of you and father coddling me. Can’t you two just treat me like any other soldier?”

Beatrix held out her arms, shaking her head.

“We can certainly do that, but you then must relinquish your royal privileges, as we have once advised you do at the start,” Beatrix replied, now becoming short in temper with the self-aggrandizing young woman. Beatrix felt that Lilia was becoming more and more like her father every day. Lilia did not appear to take kind to this idea, and after spitting once more onto the grass of the training grounds, lifted herself up back into posture, motioning for the older woman to ready herself.

“Think not on it right now, mother. I do not wish to parley, so let us only fight!!”

Beatrix sighed and nodded her head in consent, “As you wish.”

The two sustained in their training, clashing swords for a few minutes before Lilia got knocked down again by the harsh, swift moves. It was clear that her mother’s swordsmanship still had her oppressed. Lilia screamed in frustration, throwing her sword to the ground.

“I will never amount to your greatness! The frustration! So much for a prodigy!” Lilia fussed, on the verge of tears. Beatrix lowered he sword and placed her left hand on her hip.

“Your behavior today is unsanctionable. I command you to lay down your sword,” Beatrix ordered, fed up with her daughter’s attitude. “Go clean yourself up and get ready for dinner.”

Then, there it was. That one thing that reminded her most of Steiner. The stubborn glimmer in her unique emerald eyes made itself transparent to her, and Lilia made a motion of picking up her sword. The girl grunted into a scream, and the Alexandrian winds threw her dark brown hair into whirlwind around her head, a murky, iridescent orange cloud surrounding her broadsword. Instantly, her eyes glowed red and turned to slits, her muscles plumping up, ready to pounce. Before Beatrix could register what was occurring, Lilia dashed at her with incredible speed and force.

Beatrix was still far too skilled even in her middle age, and Lilia was no match even in an elevated state of being. Beatrix dodged the attack and struck her in the back, letting her fly twenty feet away, landing on the hard concrete of the opposite side of the training court. Lilia lay motionless for a moment, before managing to support her weight on her arms in an attempt to rectify her stance, but she fell back on the ground, absolutely no verve left in her long, powerful body. Beatrix strode over slowly, and knelt down next to her to whisper disdainfully in her ear.

“Climhazzard? Lilia, you know that this move is forbidden in the junior ranks, and for good reason. Where on Gaia did you learn about this skill?!”

Lilia stirred slightly before answering in raspy, spent speech.

“I…I stole father’s Excalibur. The one…you two keep in your room. The sword…had spoken…to me…and told me how…I shall accomplish greatness…to learn…true power…”

She made an unsavory hacking noise before coughing up copious amounts of blood onto the concrete. Beatrix glared hard at her before helping her up and then letting her go to fend for herself.

“Go. Cleanse yourself of grime and those ideas with it—you are certainly finished for today,” Beatrix spat in her merciless general’s tone, flipping her hair. “Your father and I will have a little tête-à-tête about this later! Away with you!”

Lilia groaned in her utter defeat, the snickers of soldiers from the other squad reaching her ears as she hobbled up the path to the castle. She knew that they hated her—but she was their superior and should not have been laughing at her at all.

“What perfect timing…” Lilia thought to herself, sticking her snake-like tongue out at them, but it only stirred up more mirth from the women.

“Move along, soldiers!” Beatrix scolded angrily at the clique of blonde foot soldiers, and they all scrambled away in trepidation, but Lilia could still overhear their muffled laughter even as they rounded the corner. She continued on in her weak state until she felt a washing of tranquility come over her. An azure light emanated from her being, thinning out with glimmering halos of golden ringed light. In moments, she was completely restored, though still a bit fatigued. She looked down at her body in amazement, all her cuts and scrapes gone, the pain in the pit of her stomach dissolved. She twirled around gratefully, ready to thank her mother for healing her, before finding herself struck cripplingly with another icy blue light, except this light was brutal in its power to make her feel like her body was being pieced apart, and made her feel twice as horrible as she felt even before she got a dose of Beatrix’s Cura. This spell didn’t throw her as did Save the Queen, however, her muscles seized, paralyzed. Her knees grew incredibly weak at this moment, and she fell to them, head spinning wildly from the power of Holy.

“Now this is the powerful magic you should wish to attain soon, if you can rid yourself of that wretched insolence,” Beatrix commented, simpering at the unequaled prowess she still projected in her holy and curative magic spells. “Now you may proceed, away. No Cura this time.”

Lilia’s mouth twitched slightly, drool seeping out of the corners, but she somehow found enough energy to lift herself off of her knees and drag her body and broadsword back up to her room in the castle, when she would make a novelty of slumber for the rest of the evening.

Beatrix flouted her husband’s inquires about where she was at supper. 

*********

“It is certain that we have enough intel now to speak on the matter,” Leopoldine started, marching into the castle conference room, waving papers in the air. When she held a policy meeting, she meant business. “Are we all quite ready to proceed with the meeting?”

Everyone at the long oak table nodded. Leopoldine positioned herself at the head and spread out her papers strategically. Gathered around her were Zidane, Garnet, Beatrix, Steiner, Lilia, and Lilia’s army superiors, both of who irritated her unreasonably.

There was Major General Alexya Goldbloom, a brutally ruthless warrior, but one that possessed a demeanor similar to Leopoldine in that she was perfectly mannered and unbelievably unshakable. Beatrix had recognized the girl as somewhat of a prodigy when she had joined the army, and took her in as an apprentice of sorts. She was not cocky, she was not proud, but was respected by all. Even Lilia found that deep in her heart of hearts, she feared this girl, knowing that she was likely the better fighter. Alexya looked over at Lilia, and smiled at her graciously. Lilia did not respond in kind, and glanced over at Diana Wood, Beatrix’s third in command, and Lieutenant General of the Army. 

This was the woman that Lilia truly despised. The woman, probably only a few years older than herself, held this optimistic and sunny disposition, but when she was on the battlefield she was a juggernaut of a force to be reckoned with. Many opponents would laugh at her stature and personality, the look about her when she skips onto the battlefield. Eventually, they would be sorry they had challenged such a fast swordsman in the first place. Even Beatrix could not match her speed and deftness. 

Diana did not smile at Lilia, however. She never smiled at Lilia. She and Lilia were thought to be sworn enemies. She pretended to be preoccupied in what Leopoldine was outlining about present circumstances, but really she kept a very watchful eye on Lilia’s every move. Lilia glared at her face while in profile; Diana caught it.

“I regret to inform you that this minor ‘resistance’ has unfortunately escalated, Your Highness,” Leopoldine started, still reviewing the papers. “I have, however, gathered intelligence on what they are doing and why they are doing it.”

She shifted her weight onto her other foot, and peered up at Zidane and Garnet, who exchanged glances at this information.

“This may not be so easy to hear. Shall I go on?” Leopoldine asked the two, receiving a nod in return from Garnet. “The information I have received was sought out by various, trustworthy sources. First, this group is supposedly christened ‘The Black Rose Warriors’, and the name is probably a reference to the kingdom’s royal insignia.”

“There is no doubt concerning what it stands for. I have deduced that myself when spotting the tattoo on the streets,” Beatrix interjected.

“I, too, have spotted these symbols appearing on the forearms of various perpetrators,” Steiner commented, looking over to Alexya for verification. Alexya nodded in confirmation that she had seen them. She turned for the large window located in the room.

“We haven’t had many casualties because of the attacks, but I can tell you for certain…trouble is brewing. And when they decide they want to strike, we will want our manpower to be ready.”

Lilia decided to chime in here, “But what is their goal in resistance of the throne? With Garnet being the most gracious, kind ruler we have had in decades…”

The young girl looked to her parents for support in reasoning, but they remained silent, unbothered by her. Leopoldine shook her head.

“Alas, this is not about what our current crown has or has not done,” Leopoldine corrected her sister, who huffed at the rebuttal. Leopoldine met gazes with Diana, “This is about Her Majesty’s predecessors…and about the current army leaders and what they see as inept discretion on their part. Many people are still quite upset over how their ancestors were killed, their homes destroyed.”

“But Alexandria has done everything they can in reparations to other countries—and as far as I know, neither rulers have any problem with our current regime—

“I get it now. They’re looking for vengeance. That is not something some friendly charity work can fulfill,” Lilia deduced, cutting off Diana, who seethed at the sound of the young major. 

“Would you be quiet for a moment, please, Lilia? We still need to hear from the General and Captain, respectively…” Leopoldine said, scolding her younger sister, who proceeded to submit. 

“What can possibly be done to rectify the situation that has not already been done? We have performed the necessary reparations…the charity work…surely…what do they require of us?” Steiner contemplated in a tone that did not match his usual manner of speaking. His eyes projected the doubt cast in his soul, and he searched his wife’s expression for solace. As usual, Beatrix was still introspective. She betrayed no sign of affectation to her husband, daughters, soldiers or queen. Steiner was, however, able to pick out the nuances in her body language, and watched her right fist clench and tremble.

“My actions in Burmecia at the beginning of my career are at least partly to blame,” Beatrix stated, resolutely. Steiner moved toward her to comfort her in he perceptions, but she shook him off.

Beatrix addressed her two most trusted warriors, “Alexya. Diana, Lilia. I must hear your thoughts, your plans.”

Diana chimed in first, Lilia bearing her chagrin. 

“M’am! I believe we must make a pre-emptive strike against all traitors of the throne!”

She saluted at Beatrix with a hand to her chest. Beatrix expected a reply from Alexya. She, however, was not so quick to answer, and gave some time to herself to think it over.

“…I think that we should wait. See what it is they are planning,” She finally answered, facing her general, nodding. “I think that we should plant eyes and ears everywhere, just so that we know of their plans ahead of time. That way, we can go about this in a manner that will allow for both strategic offense and defense, instead of random arrests and unnecessary slaughter.”

It had become quite clear why Alexya was Major General—it was because she had adopted Beatrix’s clear-headedness, something her youngest daughter did not possess. Diana cast a sneer in Lilia’s direction, to which Lilia felt the need to chime in.

“Why must you always look at me in such a way?”

“Why must you always interrupt every important manner just to give your own jibe?” Diana asked cooly, her bright blue eyes darkening considerably. 

“Enough!” Beatrix shouted, and both girls halted to her request in salute. “This is not the time to bicker. This is the time to be united, to be like-minded so that we may band together and find solutions!”

“It is true, division on the inside will surely spell out death for each and every one of us,” Alexya added as she walked around the table, hands behind her back, red cape fluttering. She stepped up with Leopoldine and spoke rather quietly to her.

“What is it that is going through your mind, wise one?”

Alexya had always liked Leopoldine, perhaps a little too much. The young woman betrayed a flush for a moment, before turning to her queen to speak on her opinion.

“I do quite agree with Alexya’s proposal. I think it is better to hold ourselves back from expending soldiers and creating casualties in the name of a better strategy.”

“Who will be our eyes and ears, then?” Garnet asked. Zidane grinned in his usual positivity, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

“We already have inside guys, of course! Blank, Marcus, Ruby, The Boss, Freya, Bentley…hell, we can even get Zerrick and Fredryck in on this! We would have ears and eyes everywhere, in all kingdoms!”

Garnet nodded. “I think it would be wise to at least inform everyone of resistance activities, so they may keep an eye out. Otherwise, I would not want to start a panic for something that may just be minor and dissolve within a few months.”

“I cannot concede to that, Your Highness,” Leopoldine interjected, “I do not believe this to be a matter of minor concern. This resistance has appeared to go about their business unnoticed, but if my sources are to be trusted, the plans in development are hardly small, random attacks…they have many large-scale works at hand, I fear…”

The young woman again examined her parents’ faces for some sort of approval, Steiner evidently vexed by the seriousness of the conversation at hand, while Beatrix stared at out the large window and remained stone-faced and silent. Garnet noticed Bearix’s demeanor and fell concerned.

“Have you nothing to say, Beatrix? Usually there is some sort of insight present within you…”

The general snapped out of her daze, feeling her hands begin to shake once more with acute fear.

“I believe…” Beatrix began, unsure of what to say without giving away that she knew more than they did, “We should treat the matter very seriously, not only by informing the army, but by sending out notice to friends and civilians alike. The more aware we are as a nation, the more protections we possess.”

Steiner nodded his head, grabbing one of her hands underneath the edge of the table, only to assure himself that she was trembling. Beatrix pulled her hand away in protest, not wishing for him to understand her dilemma.

“I concur…” Steiner said, trailing off as he realized something was wrong, despite Beatrix’s efforts to hide it from him. Leopoldine caught wind of this interaction, but chose to ignore it.

“It is set, then. Alexya, Diana and Lilia—you shall inform your squadrons of the situation at hand,” She ordered before turning to the queen. “And shall I inform all other parties?”

Zidane and Garnet agreed in unison. There was a mutual consent of murmuring to end the council session, and Beatrix was the first to take her sword in hand, and leave the room. All of her soldiers followed, until the only people left in the conference room were Leopoldine and the king and queen. Leopoldine gathered all her things and was about to exit herself, when she turned around to address the queen.

“I do believe, Your Grace, that it would be wise to look into further reparations for your mother’s damages,” she stated, a bit gravely, before moving outside.

*********

The horns sounded.

The boys knew they had no choice but to rise, from their nooks, their holes, their modest riches, their modesty, covered in dirt, covered in fine silks, covered in rings. Some kissed their rings ad their women, unsure if they would ever come home to their wives again.

The counter-resistance, Alexander’s Angels, was teeming with patriotic loyalists to the Alexandrian Throne, that they almost outnumbered the army in their cause. Most of the members were gentlemen, many of them aligned with Blank and Marcus, spanning through Lindblum and beyond, yet some of them were women of the town, raising their eyes and their hopes to the great General Beatrix, a bastion of strong female leadership and empowerment. It was only fitting that there would be women to help lead in such a movement, as Alexandria was a true matriarchy, having doctrines that set women in the greatest amount of power.

For now, however, it was all about the boys. Where the women ruled in plain daylight, imparting their wisdom, their warmth, their compassion and righteousness, the men did their work, dirty in the night, stepping strong on the streets. Alexandrian men didn’t differ much from the Lindblumese in that all loved a good brawl and had at least a small penchant for violence—but here and now, it has been in the name of the Queen Garnet, a wholly worthy cause.

Blank, Bentley, and Marcus were each prepared, and had been waiting for the horns to blow as the days went past. And upon hearing the intricate waves of the battle cry, they knew what must be done.

“The only thing to be done now is to kill as many of the bastards as possible,” Blank told his son, throwing him a broadsword and then meeting him with a shoulder clap, “Not a long term solution, but it will stave them off long enough so they can’t break into the castle or destroy any royal property.”

“The main goal is to find who is leading this stupid group so that we can live our lives in peace again! Without their advisor, they have no vigor, no chance to try their luck,” Marcus noted, nodding over at his longest friend.

Blank eyed Marcus wearily, then shook his head calmly, “The leader won’t be obvious. He won’t be fighting in plain sight. He will be hiding somewhere, counseling the fighters on how to behave and what strategies they need to cause as much of a stir as possible.”

“Ugh, sometimes information like this just makes it seem futile, dad! Don’t distract—let us press on!” Bentley insisted, beckoning the two older men forward. Blank stopped him before he could go, lifting his head just enough so that his son could see his mild blue eyes underneath the belt over his head. 

“Bentley, listen to me. You need to be careful. Sometimes you need to know when to fight and when to retreat. Please exercise wisdom in the battles you choose. You’re so young…”

Blank was never a fan of the idea of his 18 year old son joining in the revolution, but he was an adult now, and could do as he pleased. He had never seen a man feel so much love and fierce loyalty to the throne—and just as well, his best friends were royals. It would have been akin to sacrilege to prevent him in participation. He was never the army type, only wishing to protect his friends.

Bentley understood the concern in his father’s visage, and grabbed the back of his head, both men pulling in a close head-to-head embrace.

“Don’t worry, dad. I got this,” Bentley whispered, holding up his arm to display his own tattoo, the mark of Alexander’s Angels. It was a simple tattoo, with large white wings, wide open, ready for its infamous protection, surrounded by a turquoise blaze. Blank affirmed his consent upon seeing this, and watched momentarily as Bentley and Marcus ran off together, shortly following them. The three men dashed through the alleyways in which they were hiding, meeting out with collaborators along the way and making their way to town square in small groups. Hard footsteps could be heard echoing through the town as they made their way past many women, children, and families, all of whom were wont to seek cover from the riots. Bentley set his sights on getting to the square in time, but he couldn’t help but catching glimpses of their face in passing. Seared into his brain had been the sheer terror of a disastrous outcome, of those whom they would lose next. 

He shifted off balance, and gulped. He was brought to a halt at the square, nearly crashing into terrified bystanders. He had to shift through people much smaller than him and even push a few aside to get to the center of the action. Once there, he noted swords and daggers in action, a blur of people swinging at each other, unclear who belonged to what faction. 

“The tattoos,” he thought to himself before spotting a man with a black rose on his forearm and jumping into the fray to attack him. 

Blank himself steeled himself for battle, until he spotted a few men targeting the Alexandrian soldiers who attempted to barricade the dock. Blank immediately understood their motives. With this, he bypassed the crowd, jumping over a few dead bodies, knowing that one of the soldiers was about to make a wrong move and be killed for it. In intervention, he jumped between the young female solider and the young gentlemen in rebellion, and clashed his broadsword with the man’s dagger. The man was taken aback, not expecting to be met with such a formidable opponent such as Blank. The thief made an attempt to lob off the head of the man with his sword, but was met with a bit of relief when another Alexandrian foot solider impaled him through he chest, taking hold if his body and throwing it to the side as if it were a mere puppet. His gaze met hers, at once registering both the bloodlust and fear of mortality in her eyes, expression both crazed and overjoyed at the killed. A bit of the spatter and grit clouded her face, and she quickly wiped it off before nodding at Blank and flying back into the fray.

Blank immediately understood the weight of this particular riot and was at a loss to move muscle. He spotted Marcus exacting a kill, as well as Bentley sparring with an older gentleman, eventually winning that round. He tried to scope out the crowd to find Lilia and her parents, but could see no one but Alexandrian soldiers.

“The queen must have opposed anyone coming over through the dock…just in case…”

Blank wondered how many names Lilia would have taken by now, and how aptly the riot would have found its quiet in her wake. He imagined her on the other side of the lake, deciding whether she should swim over, jaw clenched in fury, itching just to get to the action, to protect her family and loved ones. As this thought passed through his mind, he heard the sounds of sloshing from a distance, and ran over to the dock to find Lilia, Diana, and Alexya coming upshore, hitting the ground running as soon as they hit land. He wasted no time in speculating, and ran into the fighting head on.

There were many moving bodies, flailing limbs, jutting swords. He decided to focus on the maiming of as many rose tattoos that he could find, not wishing to harm any that were a part of his own faction. A voice rose above the crowd, shaking, “For our ancestors! For all those lost! The Alexandrians must pay!” 

He swerved around at this, the voice growing closer and closer. The man who had shouted had planned a mission for Blank’s life, and he sensed it. His broadsword was lifted in his momentum, meeting with an even larger kind of blade. His eyes traveled over the blade and down to the eyes of the person, shocked to find that it was a rather thin, tall, muscular woman with laugh lines around her eyes and deep dimple lines forming down the sides of her long face.

“A Burmecian. But using a sword…?”

Blank was taken aback by her strength, struggling to hold down her recent advance. 

“She must be a former knight of some sort.”

He escaped her looming weight and ducked to avoid the swing, stealthily moving behind her to swing into her side, but she was as quick as he was, turning in a swift motion to block the strike. Blank registered that she was much taller than he was, giving her an advantage in power, but also knowing that he could probably outmaneuver her with his speed. There were a few sword exchanges made, but Blank knew he had to make a drastic move before he became completely taken over. The woman swung her sword over her head and it met the cobblestones as Blank rolled out of its path, panic-striken and trying to think up a way out of the battle, being completely exhausted as he was. He was no longer a young man, and it showed. The woman moved forward to exact the final blow, Blank taking the sword coming toward him with dilated pupils, awaiting his fate. 

What had happened next, he had not a moment to register, as he expected his death.

Lilia had tackled the woman to the ground. Blank sat up to watch the tussle, barely cognizant, only apprehending that Lilia had overpowered her in a short struggle and had slit her throat. The Burmecian woman lay there, convulsing, blood pulsating from her neck, before lying lifeless on the stones, eyes still wide open in horror. 

Lilia had already managed to become beaten and bloodied up as usual—but here, there was something quite different in her eyes. She turned to Blank and stood over him, just as tall as the Burmecian she just slaughtered. Her expression was that of a stone cold warrior, unaffected by emotions, by death. Blank saw it in her face that she had just killed someone and felt nothing of it in the present moment. Her brilliant emerald eyes appeared to fog over in greyness as she offered him an unenthusiastic hand to help him up. In this, he saw her mother’s ferociousity, her warrior’s spirit, and her forced lack of remorse for her actions. 

“Come, get up. This fight is to be over momentarily,” she spoke with no emotion in her voice. Blank shook his head. “Lilia…who…”

Lilia would not have it.

“I said get up. We will speak later.”

Blank laid for a moment, then obeyed. He was sure something had changed in her that day. He grabbed her hand and scanned the perimeter, noticing that the crowds were dissolving, and there were no rebels in sight.

“They retreated, on the orders of their leader. He is yet unknown as to his name and location. Cowards,” Lilia stated, answering his question before he could even ask. 

“What about Bentley? Marcus?”

Lilia tossed her wet, heavy hair powerfully and pointed to the east part of the square. Both men were working their way towards them, Marcus limping.

“We just ain’t what we used to be, bro.” Marcus spoke in between pants, eliciting a nod in agreement from Blank. “How much longer does this have to go on? We gonna have the energy for it?”

Bentley interjected, “Don’t worry about it. Me and the boys, we got this. Did you see us out there? We scared ‘em out their wits, they had no idea what was coming for ‘em.”

So confident was he that he jumped and twirled in midair, his right fist raised to the heavens. “Alexander’s Angels, we are. For the throne!”

Lilia shot him an icy glare, in which left him in utter confusion of the affect of his actions. “This is no laughing matter, you fool. Behold the cleanup we must exact now that you are through with the carnage! And to be jolly of it!”

Bentley slowly lowered his arm and tucked both his hands underneath is armpits, wounded by her words. “What the hell is up with you, Lilia? You’re not yourself. Normally you’d be joyful of victory.”

Lilia placed her sword inside her hilt and turned away from the group. 

“I am only acting in proper form with my duties. This is no victory,” she spoke, squeezing some of the water from her lilac uniform. “I must return now to the castle to inform my parents of the casualties…they did not feel they could leave the queen’s side.”

Bentley snorted at her excuse.

“I think your father is getting inside your head, acting like nothing but a stuck-up, snot nosed little bitch…”

Lilia whipped her head over her should to lay another glare to him, but this time he was not perturbed.

“Hold your tongue, street-rat. I am in no mood to argue with you right now.”

“Street rat?! Why, you-

“Yeah, I said it. Maybe if you wouldn’t act like one, I wouldn’t treat you like one!” Lilia spat, her normal, sass-ridden common speech returning to her.

“Now that’s the Lilia I know and love, eh?” Bentley proclaimed, hot breath on her face. She could smell the slight essence of booze emanating from his lips. A smiled grew on her face, and she snickered at him.

“Drinking while on the watch, are you? Typical. You should know better, friend.”

Bentley blinked a few times at her observation, then backed away turning back to his father.

“How was I to know the horns would sound?”

Lilia shook her head and marched to the dock, where a boat awaited her. She climbed in and the three men watched her drift back to the castle.

“Bentley…if you are going to participate in the riots, you can’t drink, for god’s sake…” Blank told him, exasperated. “It’s so much easier to make a lapse in judgment, then boom! You’re finito.”

“Says the one who came way too close just minutes go…lucky Lilia was there to save your old ass,” Bentley retorted, growing more pissed by the minute. “I mean god, is it pick on Bentley day today? Good Zeus. I’m going back home to check on Sapphira and Mom.”

He didn’t wait for the reply from the older and wiser, dashing off toward the West Side where they resided. Blank had the nerve to run after him and beat the living daylight out of him, but was confronted by the rest of his band.

“Boss! Any casualties on this side? Where’s Bentley?” one of Blank’s men asked, flanked by the other four.

“He’s fine, just ran away in a fit of rage, yeah?” Marcus interrupted, nudging Blank. Apparently, there was something quite humorous to him about the situation.

“Everyone is accounted for, I think,” Blank answered, counting each one of their faces with relief. “But it’s not over yet, of course. I think we all need to get some rest before the next attack comes, and we don’t know when that could be. It could be tomorrow, it could be a week from now. Just keep on your toes.”

“Boss! We also have some reports from the boss in Lindblum…” one of the men mentioned, garnering interest from the others. “He said that there was a plan to ride the boats over to Brahne’s resting place and cause mass destruction there…”

Blank recoiled with the processing of this information. He suddenly grew angry.

“I knew they were barricading the dock for a reason…dammit…the queen must already have some knowledge of what they plan to do…ok, you all are dismissed. Go home and get some rest.”

The gang nodded and scattered off, leaving Blank and Marcus.

“What’re you gonna do now, bro?” Marcus asked. 

“Well, only one thing I can do, and that’s go to the castle and inform Zidane of what we know. I need to talk to him anyway. Just watch the town and make sure there’s no more trouble for today,” Blank said, patting him on the shoulder, the two of them performing their salute to one another.

“I got it. Be safe, bro,” Marcus said before walking towards town. Blank hopped onto a boat and let one of the soldiers row him to the castle.

*********

Crystal flipped the page to the book she had been reading. “One thing I’ve known to be true in my educational career…writers crave experience.”

She had been in the dimly-lit library perusing a book on white magic spells, entitled, “The Healing Magic of 16th Century Burmecia”. Her hand drifted up from the book and landed on Fredryck’s chin, prompting his face to meet hers. Writing had been one of his most treasured hobbies in his free time, his chosen craft poetry. He placed his quill down on the parchment and found himself lost in her crystalline blues. 

“What experiences are you craving?” Crystal asked in a way that seemed seductive to him. His own light blue eyes fell back on the poem he was writing, and he felt himself at a loss for words. Crystal tended to have that effect on him.

“Oh, come now, don’t be shy. What are you writing about?”

Fredryck understood, much to his dismay, that she was merely being her friendly, flirtatious self.

“Well, many things, princess. Of course, you know of the struggle my people have endured in the past twenty-five years or so…to have to watch them wallow in their loss, not knowing how to rectify or move away from…the actions of Alexandria…’tis heartbreaking, you see,” He answered resolutely, absent-mindedly dabbing his quill into its inkpot. “Never an easy subject.”

The princess eyed his scrawling. “Will you read what you have written to me?”

The Burmecian prince’s face immediately turned a bright shade of maroon, and snatched his paper away before she could take it away from him without permission. He had read her mind.

“It can’t possibly be that bad!” Crystal moaned, thrusting herself forward to try and rip the paper out of his hands, but he was too quick and too much taller than her. “Why be like this?”

“Because what I write about is none of your business!” Fredryck huffed, sitting back down in his chair. “Besides, it is not yet finished! Shouldn’t you be busying yourself with some of that light reading that you so much adore?”

Crystal loudly smashed her palms down on the wood of the library table. This action elicited many motions of dissent from the other library inhabitants.

“So be it. I was simply interested in what is going on in that head of yours,” Crystal said, looking around at all the angry faces of the scholars around her.

“It hardly matters. You would not be able to appreciate the writings anyway—they contain Burmecian folklore and symbolism, which I assume is beyond your grasp.”

The raven-haired princess dropped her head onto her hand and started to leaf through the pages of her book once more. “I’ve already read this one three times over. I don’t know why I continue to pick it up. I think there is something in here that I have missed, some piece of information that is imperative to learn…I can just feel it…”

Fredryck continued on with his own work, scanning the lines he had already created and made tangible. 

Please, oh brethren, make yourselves well  
to do and recognize as I have recognized—  
perfidious tenderness in the most unfounded   
of domiciles, thousands of inky streaks trickling,  
never white or grey like they say, only black—

“God forbid she should ever see this…” he cautioned himself. He could have kicked himself in horror and embarrassment, had she gotten her hands on this poem. He could not help but write about her when she was around. She had possessed a grace and delicacy that he had always found both intolerable and irresistible. The romantic sensations he had possessed for her were, on the whole, absolutely unacceptable, not only because of his race, but also because of his position in life. He would never be caught dead loving an Alexandrian woman. He took notice of Crystal taking in information intently from the text, admiring her ability to concentrate despite the many things always going on around her at all times. She had her pointer finger pressed to one of the lines, and dragged it across the page, following the line with her eyes. Her brow was thoroughly crinkled in her concentration, waves of skin overlapping on her forehead—a trait Fredryck simply adored. 

“Hey now, what do we have here?” 

All of his fears for the day had suddenly come to a head. A large, brown-gloved hand reached over his head and so roughly grabbed his poem that the side of the page ripped in his attempt to stop it from being lifted away. He whipped around in his chair to witness Bentley waving the sheet above his head, like the bully he knew that he was. After a moment of the sheer horror that was written all over his face, he steeled up to take the young man head on.

“Really mature of you Bentley!” Fredryck exclaimed, his maroon undertones becoming more prominent as Bentley scoffed at him, continuing to wave the page around. “But what did I expect from a dirty Alexandrian scoundrel as yourself?”

Bentley’s face went into mock-grimace mode, before peering over at Crystal, who was half smiling, half disapproving him. “Hey babe, have you read this yet? I can already see it’s a good one.”

“Bentley, give it back to him. He doesn’t want anyone reading it.” Crystal demanded unconvincingly. At this, Bentley cleared his throat and held up the piece of writing.

“Ahem,” he began, prompting Fredryck to shoot up from his chair in an attempt to grab the poem back. Bentley kept jumping backwardsin evasion, a skill he had learned from years of thieving.

“Why, you!!!” Fredryck shouted, clearly as out of breath as he was vexed by the end of the chase. Bentley was just getting started, throwing a fist up at a librarian who shushed him and order him out of the library.

“Bentley!” Crystal scolded, but this only enticed the young thief more. He opened his mouth to recite the poem, every excruciating word falling on Fredryck’s ears, his free verse laced with heavy, sopping emotion viable and apparent to anyone listening. The vulnerability was too much for him to bear, and he crumpled to the floor. Bentley finished what he had written so far, and threw the piece of writing at him mercilessly, the parchment falling to the floor in slow waves before finally landing at Fredryck’s feet.

“Sensitive git, we all know you have a crush on the princess. Well let it be known—it ain’t gonna happen, so better just give up now!”

Crystal got up from her chair and stomped over to him, pushing him on the chest and pointing a finger in his face. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a Knight of Pluto become roused at the action.

“You’re a real jerk, you know that? How could you be so cruel to him? He has never done anything to insult or harm you!” Their faces were almost nose to nose, her fruity, floral perfume climbing through his sense of smell. Gardenia and jasmine, he mused. He took a deep breath to savor it.

“I can see it from a mile away, infringing upon my woman. And you know, I don’t very well enjoy it, Crystal.”

“I am not your woman,” Crystal corrected, acknowledging that she felt both flattered and insulted by his behavior. Everyone knew that they were dated, and nobody approved of it, save Blank and Zidane. “And what do you suppose, hm? That I would cheat on you with him? Do you not trust me more than this?”

“Of course I trust you,” Bentley repeated, placing both hands on her face and drawing her even closer for a small peck. Fredryck’s stomach turned at the sight, and he started to get up off the floor to walk out of the library. Bentley caught him on the way out. “You leave her alone, you hear? Alone!”

Laudo marched up to Bentley and grabbed his forearm.

“Alright, enough of you, out! Out!” He demanded, pulling on his bicep. 

“Yeah, alright, get off me would ya? I’ve got to tell her something important.”

Laudo glared at him fiercely, then nodded at Crystal before backing away a few steps. 

“What is it then?” She asked.

“Your father, he is up to date on the happenings in the town. Everyone knows just about everything-but I haven’t told them of our plans, so don’t worry so much about that.”

Crystal contemplated his words. “So they know about the plans to destroy Brahne’s resting place. I so wish that I could have been there to help you all stop the treachery…”

Bentley shook his head in protest, and kissed her once more.

“Crystal, I really don’t know if it’s the best idea for you to get involved. What if you get hurt? I can only teach you so many ways to defend yourself from such physical attacks-

“Shhh!” Crystal replied, looking over her shoulder, expecting anyone to be listening in. “My parents, nor any of the knights can know about my plans to join the resistance. They all expect me to just stay safe in the castle. My mother, such a hypocrite…doing to me what they had done to her…”

“She just wants to protect you. Imagine the agony any of us would have to go through if we had lost you…” Bentley trailed off, sulking to the floor.

“Do be serious, Bentley. I am a fighter all on my own, with high skills in my magic.”

“But is magic enough? I tell you, the sheer power and will of these fighters, Crystal. You cannot begin to understand unless you’ve been there.”

“So you will let me be there, straightaway,” Crystal countered, deep cerulean eyes glinting in the light of the library candles. Laudo was beginning to get suspicious of transpiring.

“Ok, you’ve had enough time with the princess. You are to leave the premises at once, do you understand?” Laudo said from behind Bentley. The young thief placed one last kiss on his girlfriend’s head before turning to Laudo.

“You are not to speak of anything you just saw or heard today, am I clear?”

The knight gulped as Bentley grew closer, knife in hand, aimed at his jugular. He glanced over at Crystal, who nodded in agreement with Bentley, before he strolled cooly out of the library.

*********  
Though generally frowned upon, it was not entirely unusual for Lilia and her troupe to spar with Zerrick.

“Ya gotta be faster than that, Zaz!” Agatha challenged Zerrick, stabbing in the direction of his torso, a blow he barely missed. “Zaz” had been an affectionate nickname of his youth, created for him by Lilia, and much like in his youth, he became accustomed to dodging attacks from women. 

Lilia had always been a little too wild for him. She never held back in a good match. He found himself struck by a half-hearted blow on the back by her sword’s hilt, tumbling to the grass of the grounds. The pain from the impact radiated through his backside, arching it away from the ground to better deal with the slight agony. Lilia looked down on him, her troupe circling him like prey. He grinned up at her look of triumph, haloed by the sunlight above her. 

“It’s not so bad, now, the pain you endure. You know you cannot win, I don’t know why you’d even try.”

This was a joke between them, of course, and she offered him a hand. He took it, jumping into the air and landing in his signature victory pose.

“Yeah, yeah, not when it’s four against one! You ladies really give me a run for my money, I must say…”

Zerrick brushed the dirt off of his jeans as Lilia commanded her squadron to cease and desist.

“Ok, training has commenced for the day. You may all go eat dinner and rest.”

“But Lils! We aren’t finished with him yet! We’ve not yet gone over how to perform the hip-side short thrust!” Deirdre complained, relieving an itch she found underneath her helmet.

“Nor have we touched today’s backflip evasion training!” Agatha added.

Lilia shook her head. “It is not only my job to instruct on these matters. Your training session with Alexya tomorrow will cover more than enough in one day. Hurry, then, before you miss your dinner!”

Charlene’s deep dimples caved in her expression, denoting disdain for Lilia.

“Yeah. Our dinner, in the barracks. A dinner you should be participating in nightly but never do, because you get to eat with the royals.”

A low, guttural noise emanated from Lilia’s throat. Agatha audibly snickered, quickly coming to a halt when Lilia threw her a salty expression before defending herself.

“I…that…that is not fair, you know that….I...”

For what seemed like the first time ever, she did not know quite what to say. She knew that she was quite clearly guilty of what they were accusing her of. Still, she didn’t wish to be seen as weak or inferior in any light. She looked around at each of the four faces surrounding her, not one willing to look her in the eye. Even Zerrick, who was usually her biggest fan and supporter, failed to meet her gaze. He absent-mindedly kicked a small rock in the grass.

“Ridiculous!” Lilia finally shouted at her consorts, throwing her broadsword to the ground in a fit. “This is no way to speak to your superiors! All of you are dismissed immediately!”

The flush overpowering her cheeks made her look like a very ripe variety of Gyshal Beet. The three soldiers were frozen staring—it was quite a sight to behold to each of them, though they were quite used to Lilia’s frequent temper tantrums. 

“YOU HEARD ME!” Lilia screamed, and her squad scrambled out of her sight towards the barracks. Lilia stood huffing, overseeing their leave. Her entire body was filled with uncontrollable trembling.

“A-Absurd! Zerrick, what do they know? Eh?”

She eventually turned to face him and caught him with a sorry grimace, seemingly devoid of any opinion whatsoever.

“What is this? Don’t tell me you’re siding with them…”

Zerrick’s mouth curled into another questionable position. Lilia could do nothing but stand there, her own mouth agape, her thick eyebrows furrowed.

“Well…many people have been questioning it for a long time…and…perhaps you should join them,” he started sheepishly, finding another rock to kick. He finally found the courage to meet her gaze, and quickly looked back to the ground, shuddering at her ferocity. “At least, until you become General, which I suspect, ehm…that…haha, it shouldn’t be long from now. Lilia, come on!”

By this point, she was having none of his garble and began to plod proudly towards the castle, long, dark hair fluttering behind her, leaving her sword in the lawn of the training grounds. 

“Come on, Lilia! I was only making a suggestion! These things will make everyone a lot happier, including yourself! The kinship inherent in this type of—

“Don’t you tell me what would make me happy!” Lilia scolded as she stopped and turned to him, blood rushing ever more quickly to her face. “You know nothing of life in the army, prince. You know not what my soldiers desire and what would make them happy.”

He became relentless in his pursuit. “Just hear me out! I have eavesdropped on so many conversations, Lilia, and believe me, most of these girls aren’t happy! It’s because they don’t feel kinship with you! They find you to be privileged, insufferably so! Lilia, listen to me!”

He finally caught up with her and placed an earnest hand on her shoulder, forcing her to stop in her cross storm. 

“Get off me,” Lilia mumbled, trying to continue her procession away from the training grounds. Zerrick refused, using sheer force to turn her around.

“You know it’s true. You wouldn’t be so fucking angry, otherwise,” he told her, admiring the resolve in her clear, green eyes, but also sensing some much unwanted tears coming along the red lines apparent in the whites of her eyes. “I’m not trying to upset you, or make you feel bad. I want to help make your life easier.”

Lilia bit her lip to keep herself from revealing her emotional stance. She swallowed hard, and focused in on the ground.

“It’s…it’s all I’ve ever known, Zaz.”

Being the most tender of men, his own oceanic eyes spared concern for her, and he pulled her in to a tight hug, one of which she attempted to resist, but simply melted into once feeling his intense warmth. Only he could have such power over her.

“I hate this.”

“I know, I know…” Zerrick attempted to comfort her in stroking her hair, something she had always loved as a child. “And nobody wants to hurt or upset you. We all just want what is best for you. Besides, I think I overheard that your parents are trying to have a conversation about that, so be prepared.”

Lilia stepped back.

“My parents?! What could they possibly have to say?”

“I don’t know, honestly. Maybe they’re beginning to think you need to put on your big girl breeches now. You know, consenting with the silent majority.”

The pit of her stomach was trying itself into knots. “I feel like a villain in my own home, Zaz. It just feels as though…everyone is…turning against me…or acting different somehow. I don’t know. Perhaps it is I who has changed.”

“I wouldn’t dwell on it,” Zerrick advised, shrugging. “Thinking of the big picture, maybe a change of scenery will have a positive impact on your life.”

The young knight made it clear that she did not believe this for a second, and sighed with dread as they stared wistfully into the reflection of the auburn sunset, glinting off the sword-like surface of the castle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author notes: I placed little elements of one of my favorite television shows in this chapter, let’s see if any of you can guess what it is! I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Chapter 4 is also ready, but I will hold off on posting it for a bit. R&R.


	4. At the Brink of Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> My room and this distance,  
> awake upon the darkening land,  
> are one. I am a string  
> stretched across deep  
> surging resonance.
> 
> Things are violin bodies  
> full of murmuring darkness,  
> where women's weeping dreams,  
> where the rancor of whole generations  
> stirs in its sleep . . .  
> I should release  
> my silver vibrations: then  
> everything below me will live,  
> and whatever strays into things  
> will seek the light  
> that falls without end from my dancing tone  
> into the old abysses  
> around which heaven swells  
> through narrow  
> imploring  
> rifts. 
> 
> \--Rainer Maria Rilke, "At the Brink of Night"

Lilia could do nothing but wait out, and surmise, the nature of her demise.

She sat at her vanity, looking dead into the mirror at her miserable reflection, unable to conjure a whole thought. Everything was fragmented, her eyes puffy and red from crying, observing the moulding on the mirror, on the ceilings, the fine detail of the room, the comforts, the hard wood floors, the elegant, expensive area rug.

She knew she would be abandoning the space quite soon. She reached out to pick up her hairbrush, and began combing it through her brown locks, watching the hair loosen for a moment, then fall back into curls each time.

_“And why should I be so grateful? I have created my own destiny…worked so hard to be where I am…I deserve this space! And they are going to take it away from me! How dare they…”_

The teenager got progressively angrier as each moment went by, and slowly let the hand holding the brush fall into her lap. A tear rolled down her cheek, though it was more born of anger than sadness.

She heard a knock on the door. She didn’t answer, knowing well they would enter anyway. She thought, they were coming to take away every ounce of dignity she had left.

Beatrix briskly opened the dark cherry wood door without another second wasted. She glanced into her parents’ solemn faces for a moment before continuing to brush her hair, completely at a loss of how to speak to them, how to handle the situation. The two knights were well aware of her drama, and Beatrix was having none of it.

“Adelbert. Take the brush away from her. Now.” She ordered, pointing at her girl. A fat tear rolled down her cheek upon hearing this, and she began to sob violently.

Steiner hesitated heavily, nervously looking between his daughter and his wife. He felt frozen to the spot, soles stuck to the ground like they were glued.

“Do it. Now.” Beatrix demanded.

“But darling, this borders on brutal cruelty! Can’t we just-

“No. This is a great deal of the problem, your coddling her at every end. Enough. She wants to be the general of the army, we start treating her like so,” She insisted, turning to her daughter. “Give your father the brush.”

Lilia did not look at either of them, her crying settling into quiet sobs, continuing to brush her hair like it wasn’t happening.

“You are _even_ unworthy of the title of Lieutenant General in this moment,” Beatrix said coldly, once again gesturing to her husband, who looked to be at a loss of what he could possibly to do save the situation.

“Take the brush. _Now.”_

The tone of her voice was final. Steiner understood why she wanted him to do it specifically. He and Lilia had a special bond.

He stepped towards her slowly in an attempt to reduce the clanking of his armor. He began to wish that maybe Beatrix would rescind her wishes, that the whole thing would just blow over and they could be a loving family unit again. But no—things had not been that way for ages, not as long as Lilia became such a fiercer warrior. It was all about the fighting, imminent war, the resistance, the glory, the fame.

He wanted no more of it, the moment he grabbed her wrist tightly, watching her try to writhe out of the grip, and forcibly removed the brush from her hand. The girl’s body fell to the floor like a lifeless doll, and Steiner could look on no more. He immediately trudged out of the room, the irritating sounds of his armor echoing through the hallway. All that was left was Beatrix, who flipped her hair and the sight before throwing her hands to her hips. 

“You look pathetic. Get up. You will display such behavior no more. You are going to start acting like a Major or you will be dismissed from the army. Do I make myself clear?”

Lilia’s fingers felt clammy against the cold floor. She inched her head up slowly to look into her mother’s angry red eyes. Her own emerald ones were no match in ferocity, and she crumpled back into the floor, defeated.

“The theatrics will end immediately. I do not care if you are my kin—oh! Now wipe those ridiculous tears away,” Beatrix ordered, tiring of her overwrought display of emotion. “Your friends will be here shortly to help you gather your things…only the essentials. Leave the sentimentality at the door…you won’t need it where you are going.”

With this statement ringing through the air, she turned swiftly and followed her husband down the hall, footfalls like a cat’s, and she was gone. 

Lilia was left on the floor. She knew the message was coming. She didn’t know why she tried to fight it, why she acted like a child, why she didn’t just start to pack up her things before they came. It may have saved her relationship with her mother if she could have just did as she was told. But no, it could never work that way. She composed herself, heaved herself up from the floor, and walked weakly to the side of her bed, preparing to kneel down and remove some items from underneath it. Right on cue, Heather and Lynne, her only two friends and subordinates, crowded the doorway with concern for her.

“Lils! We’re sorry, eh! ‘Ad to follow the gen’ral’s ordahs!” Heather exclaimed in her rather rude accent, unsure if she should approach the young major, who was clearly angry and unwilling to respond in a kind manner.

“Yes…we were ordered to help you pack up your things. I suppose your mother thought of it as her last act of kindness towards you for the time being…I mean…I think she still loves you!” Lynne said, a bit stupidly.

“Of course she still loves me!” Lilia cried, insulted, throwing a book over her shoulder. It nearly smacked Lynne in the face, but she was agile enough from her training to dodge it. “Just be quiet and help me, then, or leave at once!”

The two young women looked at each other with stagnancy before packing things in the boxes left for them. It was a half an hour of packing before Heather discovered a doll under Lilia’s bed and brought it to her attention.

“Ay Lils…d’ya wonta take this doll wif ya? I know ya mum said no “persnal” ey-ems but…I fink vis one would go un-no-issed.”

She held up the doll, and Lilia turned her head from her business to look at it. Without any warning, she ran up to the girl and snatched the doll away, horror written over her features.

“Geez, Lils! I woz jus’ askin’ a question!”

“Why would you even touch this? Bring this to light?! I thought I had gotten rid of this thing…” Lilia yelled, glowering at the doll in her hand before her expression softened, and she remembered everything that she associated it with.

“My…my parents had given this to me when I was little. I believe it was my mother’s, given from her mother…”

She continued to muse on the doll for a few moments. She remembered that her mother never let her meet the rest of her family, and he father’s family were all decreased, as far as she knew. The mere reminder of this threw her off balance once more, and she set her eyes back to Heather. She lifted her arm behind her head and threw the doll violently at the window. It fell with a light thud on the floor, both the others staring at it with fear mingled with a touch of sadness.

“Leave it on the floor. My parents will find it later when they’ve come to inspect my job done. That’ll serve them a little _reminder,”_ she figured _,_ dusting her hands off and continuing to pack some of there things away in boxes. 

“Oh, and would you _please try_ and clean up your accent?” Lilia mentioned to Heather. “I know the “rich speak” as you call it doesn’t much suit you but my god…my mother _will_ mark you for that one!”

 

IXIXIXIXIXIXIXIXIX

 

The girls never seemed to slow down. It was as if they were supplied endless amounts of energy from the Gods; Gods meant to torment and punish the mother of them for all of her sins. After a long hard day of training soldiers to be the best in the land, she felt she hardly had any energy left for herself, let alone two small children.

Nevertheless, Beatrix found a way to persevere and summon up whatever was needed of her to be the best mother she could. And, she surmised, she wasn’t a _great_ one, not like her queen, who had endless time to spend with her two children, one who was even younger than Lilia. And this made her feel guilty, guilty that she had been so negligent to bring two humans into such a life, such a world. 

They often had to hire a nanny to take care of them the entire day. It was only at dusk that she and her husband had any time to spend with their daughters. But they seemed to adore the two nonetheless. 

“Mommy, daddy, watch! I’m going to kill ALL the beasts! Bandersnatch—DIE!!” Lilia screamed, waving her wooden sword wildly at her sister, who kept dodging her every move. 

“You’re never going to become a knight striking like THAT!” The elder Steiner teased, firing her younger sister up even more.

Steiner chuckled to himself, placing a hand softly on Beatrix’s thigh. “Now, now, Lea…be kind to your younger sister! Support her in her aspirations!”

Beatrix shot him a glare.

“No. Do not encourage violence in her; foster restraint and a gentle hand,” she scolded. “Lilia, be very careful with that sword! You may hurt your sister if you are not careful!”

Lea rolled her eyes as she dodged another one of Lilia’s swings.

“Mother, I do not think she is going to be able to get one at me…”

She spoke too soon. While she was distracted by dialogue with her parents, the young girl was struck hard in her left arm, recoiling at the blow and falling to the ground.

“OUCH! LILY!! THAT’S GOING TO LEAVE ME A BRUISE!”

“Lilia, I told you to calm down!” Beatrix insisted, getting up to walk over to the two. Before she could take another step, Lea was off the ground, tackling her sister in revenge, placing her in a chokehold.

“H-Help…c-can’t…breathe…" 

“CURE!” Beatrix shouted, casting the spell over both girls, before grabbing Lea by the ear and dragging her back to her father. “That is enough from you girls. This is why we do not allow you to fight one another. The art of combat is hardly a joke.”

She released her ear and she sat on the ground next to her father, tears in her eyes.

“She struck me first, mother, you saw!” 

“Enough from your mouth,” Beatrix ordered as Steiner ran to pick up Lilia off the ground, whispering something in her ear. He carried her to the place where they all sat, and after settling into a more serene mood, they all rested together there, watching the warm colors mingle on the horizon. Steiner reached into one of the storage spaces in his armor and presented a gift to Lilia.

“Lilia…I know your birthday is next week…but I wanted to present this to you early.”

He placed a lightly worn doll in her hands, her face lighting up with joy.

“Well, I technically found it for you, as it was my mother’s, given to me when I was about your age,” Beatrix noted, stroking Lea’s hair, knowing she would be slightly jealous, but she never cared much for dolls anyway.

“Mommy! Daddy! I LOVE it!!” She cooed, squeezing it close to her chest and rocking it.

“What will you name it?” Steiner asked as she jumped into his lap. 

“I think…I will name is…ROSE! After mommy!!” She exclaimed, hugging it even tighter.

Beatrix sighed. She hoped dearly that the girl never grew up to be like her or her mother. She had given the doll as tradition, to pass on one of the few good memories she had of her mother.

Perhaps growing up to become like Beatrix wouldn’t be the end of the world. After all, to be a warrior is honorable, but it is to risk your life and sanity in unmeasurable danger. 

But to be selfish, to be a liar, to deceive in the name of one’s own gain at the expense of others…that was a far worse fate.

 

IXIXIXIXIXIXIXIXIX

 

“Do not be silly, Sir Walton…the young girl has talents even beyond her mother!”

The Alexandrian Theatre was filled, row to row, with nobles from all over the continent. They had gathered to witness part one of the bi-annual series that named Crystal headlining vocal act. 

“No. I was speaking of the princess, dear Petunia. Her vocal prowess does not succeed a third of her mother’s.”

The lady brought up her hand and smiled, shrugging.

“I thought you were speaking of the Lady Steiner.”

“What is this fancy with all you ladies and Leopoldine Steiner? There is a strange obsession with the woman wrought upon this land!” He exclaimed, gesturing to the woman of many talents, who had stationed herself at the harp for the evening. It had been a battle for attention between Crystal and Lea—Crystal had much of the attention simply for being a princess, but Leopoldine always attracted equal attention, particularly from the ladies of the land, and no one could quite admit why.

 

“Well…simply take a gander at her marvels…” the lady trailed off, tracing circles on her thigh with her finger. A grand golden harp decorated with additional flourishes of gold left sat upon her rather small shoulder, and her arms shimmered with sweat in the dimly lit stage, as they plucked and glided masterfully along the strings. She played very carefully in concentration at the princess’s cues, and less on her playing, which she felt she could do with her eyes closed.

 

“I must admit, she does play rather well…” the lord admitted. “But the princess! She is beautiful, no?”

 

Petunia tilted her head to get a better look at Leopoldine, ignoring the Lord Walton’s comments.

 

“It is almost as if she is so quick, you cannot even understand her technique…like there is some strange archaic magic to her notes...I hear harp is her instrument of choice, after violin of course. I am surprised she is not on the violin this evening!”

Lord Walton rolled his eyes and crossed her arms as he listened to her continue on about Leopoldine.

Indeed, the young woman was unbelievably talented, that she aroused a great jealousy from all other musicians in Alexandria, but she was amiable enough that they could never have true disdain for her. Crystal, on the other hand, felt as though she deeply relied on her in these moments. She felt that singing was not her forte, though her mother put her up to a concert twice a year, and she could not say no. The queen had her own concerts, but they only took place once a year. And so fill up that void, she devised two for her daughter, singing both old folk songs of Alexandria, Madain Sari, and originals written by none other than Leopoldine. 

She peered, exasperated and uncomfortable into the audience as the last note of the evening rang out, and everyone stood up to applaud her, while the rest of the musicians did the same. Leopoldine stood up at the front of the stage and bowed, as she organized the event. The ladies in the audience screamed wildly. Before long, they were able to exit the stage to retire for the evening.

“Hey, what’s up with all the women admiring you so?” Crystal asked Lea backstage, eliciting a simply smile from the older girl.

“I do not have the faintest idea, to be honest. I think they just like me because I am the general’s daughter. Nothing more, nothing less.”

“Nonsense!” Crystal insisted, annoyed at her humility. “They don’t feel that way about Lilia!”

Leopoldine sighed, grabbing the case to her harp. “That is because Lilia is quite the brat, and everyone knows that!”

“Oh, but there must be more to it than that! And by the way, why are you going to Lindblum tomorrow?” Crystal asked as she followed Leopoldine back onto the stage.

“It is nothing, My Liege. Simply a diplomatic mission.” She answered briskly, grabbing her harp gently to put it in its case. Crystal caught a flush running over her skin. 

“Hmmm…strange. Eiko has not yet invited you to a talk in Lindblum. She usually comes here and has mother in company. Does my mother not know?”

“And speaking of your mother!” Lea interrupted, pointing to stage right, where the queen was waiting, Beatrix and Steiner right beside her. “Go, she is waiting to applaud your job well done.”

Crystal scoffed and leaned down to Lea’s ear. 

“I’m going to find out what is going on between you and Eiko! And that is a promise!” She said before walking gracefully over to her mother. 

“You did a simply astounding job, my dove!” Garnet exclaimed, reaching down up to hug her daughter. She looked into her face and saw sadness. “Are you not happy?”

Crystal sighed. “I don’t know. I do not much enjoy singing in front of people, you know that. I have never been quite so good at it.”

“Nonsense! Princess, you sang as well as 10,000 angels besotted in rapturous chorus!” Steiner insisted, shaking his fist in the air.

“I concur, princess. You were a sight to behold and a pleasure to the senses,’ Beatrix added.

The queen smiled and ran her fingers through her daughter’s raven hair.

“You will sing, no more then. I cannot force you to partake in something you do not wish to. I have ideas that will please you much more than these, anyway.”

“You mean that?” Crystal asked, her pit in her stomach lightening up and eventually floating away. “W-What could you possibly have in mind?”

Steiner’s face scrunched up at this news.

“My Queen! What ever do you mean? This program is tradition!”

“Now Steiner…I have broken many a tradition before, why not now?” The queen reasoned, waving him off as she usually did. Beatrix glared at Steiner to calm down, and he did so without another word, as he had learned better than to go against the queen’s wishes over the years.

“My dear daughter…we are going to take a month’s trip to Madain Sari! And your cousin and I are going to train you…your father has agreed to look over things while we are gone on this mission. You will be a master of the art of summoning!”

She reached into her dress’s secret pocket as she watched Crystal’s face glow as her namesake, and she pulled out a whole pumice, shimmering like the star it was. 

“A-A…Pumice…? So…you’re going to have me learn-

“Ark. That is correct. Your training begins a week from tomorrow. Do read up on the summon and learn as much as you can before I teach you these last few summons…”

“Oh, joy!” Crystal squealed before scurrying off to the library. Garnet smiled sadly, knowing she would likely not hear her daughter sing for a while. She raised her head and saw Lea approaching.

“My Queen. Your daughter did a splendid job this evening…” she said, curtseying to her. 

“Do not be foolish, your skill is what carried the concert to greatness. How is it that you became so masterful at your craft?” Garnet questioned, unable to recall when Lea mastered the harp in addition to piano, flute, and her beloved violin.

“I spent a lot of time studying music and its extensive theory as a child, and mostly it went unnoticed,” Lea mused, smirking at her mother, who was the first to foster her interests, and eventually, her prowess. “Which is interesting, since I am the oldest of all the children.”

“Ah, I believe everyone was quite smitten with Your Majesty when she was first with child. At that point, you were just beginning to show your spectacular talent,” Beatrix noted, returning the smile. 

Lea bowed her head at her mother in great humility. “I don’t mean to interrupt, Your Grace, I am just going to pack up my things and be off to retire for the evening. I have a long day ahead of me tomorrow.”

Garnet furrowed her brows in the question that rested on her tongue. 

“Yes, you told me days ago that you were meeting with Eiko, but I was preoccupied…what exactly might this meeting entail?”

The older Steiner girl waved her hand in the air to dismiss concern, walking back to her harp to pick it up for a quick exit. 

“I say, it is nothing to worry about, Your Majesty. Simply a meeting of the minds, if you will.”

Harp in tow, she tried to hurry towards the exit, when she was again stopped by the queen.

“Eiko usually has one of her many hands do her bidding. She is more concerned with both the restoration mission and the uncovering of artifacts of Madain Sari…why now?”

“I believe she wants to get involved in the resistance, Your Grace,” Lilia said curtly, very evidently wishing to be out the door at this moment. “And you have given me permission to do so. It would be gross neglect if I did not attend this meeting, one in which nobles will surely be present, and some not so far in your corner. I have to strategize and also defend you.”

Beatrix felt she must chime in, “Indeed, My Queen. You surely do not believe that this is not an important meeting?”

Garnet shook her head. “No, no, I do believe it is quite important. Just strange for Eiko to go about it this way, and as extravagantly as she is, what with having a large dinner party and all.”

“It is well known that Lady Eiko loves to throw a good soiree,” Steiner noted almost lovingly, thinking on her very social personality. 

“Quite true,” Lea said finally, curtseying once more. “Now if you will excuse me, My Liege. I must be going off to rest; it is going to be a long day tomorrow!”

She felt it safe to start walking, and the three left followed her gait all the way to the door, until she was no longer in sight. Garnet turned back to her guard and smirked mischievously.

“I’m gonna find out what the two of them are _really_ up to…” she announced to her knights, both of whom looked nervously at one another. They knew of their daughter’s unusual attractions, and had no problem with it, having suspected as much since she came of age. They didn’t want to believe, however, that she might be acting on them, and in a most inappropriate relationship.

Eiko possessed the propensity to be especially persuasive.

 

IXIXIXIXIXIXIXIXIX

 

“I…I am not sure what exactly you are implying.”

Leopoldine was simply puzzled at her current company. While all the Lindblumese nobles attending the "policy banquet" were all very fine and cordial, they appeared to have secret motivations behind their questions aimed at her.

“Well, surely you don’t believe that every single Alexandrian rallies behind your queen. Some may have even joined the resistance!” one of the Lindblumese nobles said, shrugging as she took a sip of her deep garnet Burmecian wine. Lea watched as she puckered after the sip, and started playing with the stem of her own wine glass.

“If my intelligence reports render me correct, most of this “resistance” is outsiders that have somehow infiltrated the city, perhaps migrants from Burmecia or even Lindblum, but very few are Alexandrian. Yes, there is indeed overwhelming national support for Queen Garnet, from Dali to Treno.” 

“Have you considered that some of the resistance may hail from Dali or Treno? How on Gaia would you have gained these statistics? I bet somebody on your intel team is bluffing,” A noble man noted, glancing over at Eiko, who shone nothing but sheer amusement on her face. Lea frowned at her emphatically, and her only response was a hard tongue in her left cheek.

“I do not understand why you think this way,” Lea insisted, taking a huge sip of her Trenian white wine. “You suppose my team is lying, yet you have no proof of such and have never met any of them. It is perhaps possible that some are Trenian— 

A noble woman who had been staring at Lea the whole time, nearly frothing at the mouth, interrupted. “And your mother is Trenian, is she not? Trenian women are known to be quite beautiful, no? Particularly nobility there…and if your mother has hailed from nobility like it is rumored…perhaps the world is simply jealous of your _gene pool._ But alas, they still want you to keep it Trenian. Your mother mated with an _Alexandrian,_ and your Queen, well…there’s not much to say there. To think there is no hatred out there for the mutts of the world…is simply naive. Yes, Treno is Alexandrian territory but that doesn’t mean they identify with the peasants of Alexandria.”

Lea was taken aback at this blatantly discriminatory, classist comment, once again peering at Eiko, who was still smirking fiercely. “I do not understand what that has to do with anything. The resistance exists because of the late Queen Brahne’s actions in Burmecia and Lindblum, nothing more, nothing less. And not every person that lives in Alexandria is a peasant!”

“And you don’t suppose that maybe your mother had something to do with Brahne’s tyranny? ’Tis foolish to not think on it. There is much hatred funneled at her, and has been for years,” the woman continued, eyes resting on Lea’s bosom once more. “The people are sick of seeing her, sick of her tyranny on the land. But you…maybe they like you…” 

“No, Brigette, darling. It is because the new queen is simply foolish! She is too trusting of her people, and too ignorant of the anger that has been boiling inside of them for decades, unknowing that her silly “reparations” and  the “restoration project” will never be enough,” her husband insisted.

“That is quite enough!” Lea demanded. “I come here to have a conversation about global policy with like-minded individuals and what do I happen across? A grand roast, a blazing fire of insults thrown at my family and friends, and my queen, nonetheless. Incredible.” 

Lea pushed her chair back with her legs in an attempt to get up and leave, before Eiko summoned her to sit back down.

“You’re really doing this right now?” Lea spat at Eiko, eliciting a gasp from her noble friends.

“You dare speak to our lady in such a manner?” One voice chimed in.

“Yes, I do dare. She has been silent all this time without a word. You would think the leader of the free world would have something substantial to say to all of this buffoonery." 

Lea did not usually have this sharp of a tongue, but when she was angry, she had difficulty containing her rage, and often threw it down just as she felt. She was blunt, yet sincere, so much like her mother. Eiko did not stop grinning, she bit her lip and insisted once more that Lea take a seat.

“Sit, my dear, my beloved friend, sit! My nobles have gotten mouthy and out of hand, it is true,” she began, motioning with her hands gracefully through the air as she always did. “But they have a point. There is no doubt somebody…or some _group_ perhaps, that truly despises both your mother and of course, the queen. We must now draft up solutions instead of this disdainful parley.”

Lea clenched her fists in response and begrudgingly sat down, fumbling for her glass of wine and partaking in another large gulp before slamming it down as hard as she could without breaking the glass.

“Nobody here has intended to embarrass you…or make you feel at all uncomfortable…yes?” She motioned to her people, and they all grunted half-heartedly in agreement. “So let’s get back down to business, shall we?”

The tiara on her head and the jewels that adorned her entire body nearly blinded Lea as she tried to look into the woman’s teal eyes, but after having no success, Lea drummed her fingers on the wood of the table and stayed silent. Something southwards stirred in her, though she stuffed it down as best as she could before Eiko could speak again.

“I propose this plan,” Eiko announced just as the food started to roll out on portable trays. “Lindblum will deploy some extra help to Alexandria and start a pro-Alexandrian campaign across the country, announcing that our alliance remains in tact and that our Queen Garnet is a benevolent force to be reckoned with. That is about as much as can be done on our end, but I think you’ll find Lindblum tends to have quite the effect on the morale and psyche of this entire continent. Who disagrees?”

Everyone murmured in assent, save for Lea, who simply grimaced even harder as the servants started to fill up her plate with food. Eiko winked at her before taking another sip of her own white wine, and Lea picked up her silverware and began to eat as a distraction, though she didn’t feel very hungry.

 

IXIXIXIXIXIXIXIXIX

 

“Alright…plans have unfortunately changed…”

Crystal bit her lip as her eyes roved over each of her friends’ faces. She looked down at her hands sheepishly.

“My…my mother told me I am to train in Madain Sari for a month to master my summoning skills. She deems in necessary for my advancement.”

The rest of the room looked bewildered, some even sad, save for Bentley and Fredryck, who both sighed in relief.

The meetings usually took place in the dimly lit, smoky basement of Blizzard Breakers, where they all took part in playing card games, as well as planning out their next move as Alexander’s Angels. They were all gathered along their usual long table amongst the drunks and harlots of the city, partaking in a variety of unsavory acts all around them. The room reeked of the marijuana plant and there was a live, mediocre band playing in the background, and Lilia began to be irritated by all the noise, and sneered at Bentley, who was smoking a joint of the stuff. With her luck, her mother would catch her smelling of the stuff on her way back to her new home.

She didn’t want to think about her mother at the moment. She was still so angry.

“Crystal, I really think we need you here. Your magic provides us with such brilliant defense, that I am not sure we can survive without it. The resistance, there are many of them, and they are always ready to strike…” Lilia said, shifting her gaze from Bentley to Zerrick for approval.

“I agree…I think your magic is a priceless asset. One that we need to have in some shape or form in order for us to beat these guys,” Zerrick agreed, trying to snatch the joint out of Bentley’s hand. “Ay, bro, give me a hit!”

Bentley shook his head and held it out of reach.

“Nah, dude. You know I’m the only one that can function high. What if a riot ensues tonight? The last thing I need is you _dead.”_

“I’m not going to die after having _one hit,_ now pass it over,” the young man insisted, finally able to snatch the joint from his comrade’s hands. He took one large inhale that ate through the majority of the joint, passing it back to Bentley.

“Yeah man, smoke all of my weed why don’t you?”

“Be quiet!” Lilia insisted. “That drug is illegal in Alexandria, you know. Your mother would have your head, Zerrick.”

“Can we please get back on topic?” Crystal pleaded. “We need to figure out what we’re going to do without me.”

She rubbed the horn on her head in grave silence, feeling the intensity of those around her. 

“I mean, I suppose one of us could learn some magic. Lils, you know some white magic, don’t you?” Fredryck noted scathingly, implying that her magic skills weren’t very apt.

Lilia scoffed and rolled her eyes. “Yes, I know some basic _white magic,_ but I focus most of my energy on physical skill. You know that. We need a real mage in this place.”

“And we don’t know any other summoners. You, Queen Garnet and Lady Eiko are the last ones!” Sapphira said glumly, nearly crumbling to the floor in dramatic desolation. 

“Yes, but can’t we extract Eidolons from you? And couldn’t Kuja use summons or something?” Lynne pondered.

“Don’t be stupid. Extracting Eidolons would kill her,” Lilia said. “And Kuja had some sort of mechanism…an airship I think it was? That was able to take on summons. But we no longer have such technology, and even if we did, we would not use it for fear of harming a summoner.”

Crystal grabbed her glass of beer and took one last swig before emptying it. Bentley raised his eyebrows at her seductively, proud that his girlfriend was a beer drinker.

“The only people that can use summons properly are summoners,” the princess added. “Anyone or anything else, and the power is quite diminished.”

“And I can’t summon either. I was born without a horn, and so was my brother. I suppose we weren’t gifted with the genetics,” Zerrick added, sighing.

“It’s not like you’d want to summon anyway. You’re perfectly powerful enough in trance, I’d say…” Lilia said, smiling and patting him on the back lovingly.

“How did that even happen anyway? You’re dad is a freaking ALIEN, bro. I thought two different species of anthro couldn’t mate, let alone with aliens??” another one of Bentley’s boys asked. 

Zerrick responded quicker than the boy expected. “You know the story. My dad was created as destroyer of this planet, but apparently HIS creator wanted him to leave behind some very powerful offspring that could be brought home to Terra…so he was created with genitalia similar to a human, and obviously it was functional…so I guess we’re half human, half Terran…half genome.”

As everyone pondered this, one of the drunks burped loudly in Heather’s ear as he walked by the table.

“Ya know, I don’ much like vis playce, yea? Too many drunkahds,” she whined, inching ever closer to Lilia. The major knew she was a bit of a coward, deep down.

“But you HAIL from the slums, you git,” Lilia said half playfully, shoving the girl back towards the dirty man. Heather shook nervously, not wanting to be reminded of her past.

“Don’t call them slums. Alexandria doesn’t have _slums_. They have some areas that are just a little more poor than the rest.”

Fredyrck scoffed. “Don’t be stupid, Crystal. No one cares about the ridiculous drivel your mother puts out. _They’re slums.”_

Crystal looked hurt by this statement, and grew silent. Bentley noticed this interaction and shook a fist at Fredryck, who pretended not to notice it.

“Can we get back on topic, please?” one of Bentley’s boys said, swirling his beer around his glass in a bored fashion. “I can’t wait till we have another brawl. I live for the tussle…”

“That’s not what we want. We don’t want a tussle, or a struggle of any sort. We want to win, and we want to do it cleanly without casualties. What kind of solider would I be if I did not oversee that?” Lilia questioned herself, looking down at her gauntleted hands. 

Zerrick motioned to the waitress to grab another beer. “But sometimes it cannot be helped. You’ve never experienced war, Lils. Sometimes people do die. We just gotta make sure it isn’t any of us…”

The moment after he ordered his next beer, the horns sounded, creating an eerie silence in the bar. Everyone knew what the horns meant.

“Shit…I had a feeling this might happen…” Zerrick said quietly, a hint of fear in his usually cheerful voice. Crystal leaned over the table as her skin began to turn sallow. She knew she had too much ahead of her to lose her life now, being the target of many of the attacks. There was no way she’d be able to get back to the castle in one piece. She needed to fight.

Lilia began to realize that everyone talked a big game they couldn’t back up, as she looked around at their fear-striken expressions. When it came down to it, they were all just scared little children.

Still, each person shot up from their seat and dashed towards the stairs up to street level. Left behind were Heather and Sapphira, who were both too stunned scared to move. Lilia stomped back down the stairs upon noticing that Heather was not present.

“Heather! Get your ass up here! Your are a soldier for Alexander’s sake!” She yelled at her subordinate, who quickly obeyed and ran nervously up the stairs. “Sapphy, please go home. Your mother will be waiting for you and worried sick, at that.”

Sapphira nodded and Lilia kindly led her up the stairs and watched her scurry down the cobblestones, frightened to death. Lilia furrowed her brow and looked up at the clouds, which were charcoaled with the portending of bloodshed. She clutched at her hilt by instinct and followed the sound of the horns.

 

IXIXIXIXIXIXIXIXIX

 

Queen Garnet’s trustworthy hand paced around Lindblum Castle’s grand guest room, clutching her 4th glass of wine tighter than ever. As she took in the sights, the decor, the architecture, it became obvious to her that Eiko had recently remodeled to her liking. After her parents’ death, she took it upon herself to become the true ruler of Lindblum, and in doing so, made her own policies and created a lifestyle, an aesthetic, of her kingdom. 

 It was an extravagant aesthetic.

 She had to stop and ponder for a moment, just why Eiko had to have a painted portrait of herself in every room, why every inch from the walls to the ceiling had to have some trace of gold leaf, and why there were so many statues erected of fallen summoners in every corner.

 Perhaps she was being insensitive, she thought for a moment. After all, she was one of the last of her kind, and they were bound to go extinct at some point. Maybe she was so obsessed with herself and her own wealth because she knows she is one of the last. And the last of her direct line. At least Garnet had her daughter.

 But there was something else that struck her eye, even more so than the gold or the paintings of herself. She inched closer to what looked like a relic, glinting off walls of its glass encasement. It was not something that she remembered hearing of from her queen, nor could she recall any stories about it. Why it was in the guest room and not in some vault, Lea did not have a clue. She placed her fingers daringly on the glass to see if she could get a better look at it. On it’s outer shell, it appeared to Lea as an opalescent jewel, one that was opaque but shined with all the colors in the rainbow. The inner shell was more fascinating, however. It didn’t show blood red like a garnet, but poppy red. It made her reminisce on the way her mother’s eyes sometimes looked in the sunlight, or when she was particularly angry. Childhood feelings flooded back to her in light of this thought, and she could not put her finger on why. 

 Suddenly, the double doors swung fiercely behind her, and shown the way in by her servants, Eiko pranced in the room and like some ostentatious buck prowling for his doe of the season. Lea, presenting herself in the exact opposite fashion, turned her back to the woman immediately.

 “Normally I would hold my tongue for such as your stature, but I must inform you…you have far too many strange collectables for a grown woman, my lady,” Lea noted scathingly, turning back to the jewel encased in glass, taking another large gulp of wine. Eiko chucked softly in the background, inching over in a worryingly slow fashion.

 “I see you like my choice in decor. I cannot say I am surprised at this,” Eiko said, ignoring Lea’s previous statement. The younger woman did not answer to this, and attempted to avoid growing physically close to the royal by walking towards the sliding door to the balcony.

 “What do you think of the jewel? I saw you staring into it’s glimmering depths as I walked in…”

 “And you walked in uninvited, without a knock or notice,” Lea reminded her, forfeiting a chance to ask about the jewel. She opened the door to the balcony in a flourish of anger, walking with as heavy a foot as she could manage to the edge.

 “Why so hostile?” Eiko asked, her tone becoming more serious. “You tell the nobles what they want to hear. That is my job now. I keep them happy with gossip and causerie. You should be thankful I steered them away just in time to input a solution…they smell the reeking dead body in the family closet.”

 “My mother’s demons have nothing to do with me,” Lea spat angrily as she turned toward the woman, unsure why she was so fired up. She knew it was just business. “Those are issues for her and my father to sort out between themselves, and believe you me, they’ve done a lot of work over the years. Don’t be so naive as to think I didn’t hear my mother scream bloody murder in the middle of the night as a child. And it happened so very often.”

 There was no trace of coy amusement left on Eiko’s face. She understood perfectly well her mother’s past, knew of the agony it caused an entire continent, how much fear it plagued in the hearts of so many, how an entire population was almost wiped out. After all, she was part of an extinct race.

 “Listen to me. I am sorry, I did not mean for it to come off in such a way as that. I truly needed you here this evening so you could tell them yourself…Dagger, your mother, father, and the rest of the family…I know you have it all under control. Hell, those four saved the world together! Why would I ever doubt any of you for a second? My people need to learn, so they can figure out how to help. And to learn they need to meet you, to listen, and to know you. I didn’t bring you for show, or for entertainment. Even if that’s tough for you— 

 “They don’t know me. They will never know me. Your nobles don’t give a rat’s bottom about anyone but themselves,” Lea concluded, and Eiko could no longer look her in the eye, knowing that they were full of both rage and passion. Lea focused on her horn instead, and felt an out of place disdain for it. She tried to tell herself it looked ridiculous on her small face, instead of endearing to her intriguing mix of bold and delicate features.

 “We need all the help we can get, even still…” The queen regent answered, still attempting to get closer to Lea. “And as well prepared I think Alexandria is, I am always prepared to be the backup plan in turn. We wouldn’t have been able to save the world without a few backup plans in place, you know…”

 

“I am quite finished hearing about how you saved the world, you did this, my mother did that,” Lea complained in disgust. “Can you stay in the present for one moment with me, please? Yes?”

 Eiko nodded, a bit sheepishly. Lea found that mildly pathetic.

 “Why did you not defend me sooner? You saw those nobles swoop at your so called hidden “carcus” of mine like starved vultures! I was put in the hot seat and made to look a fool. And not even the most brilliant woman can defend her kingdom justly in the company of ten of the wealthiest people in the entire world…as my hostess, you are supposed to intervene in such a way that would allow me to do my job. And I must say, madam, you did an unsightly poor job at playing hostess this evening.”

 "So insult me some more, go ahead. You expect me to be able to control things I can’t! Well I have to play the “bad bitch” here…because nobody else is going to run the kingdom like I do. And you know I keep the wealthy in check. They respect me, because I let them have their fun and then I shut it down when it goes too far. I am sorry you got caught in the crossfire, I truly am, but believe me when I say they are on board for the cause of protecting the interests of Alexandria,” Eiko insisted, finally getting close enough to grab hold of Lea’s hands, taking note of the sparkling stars and sharp crescent moon above them. It felt romantic, in a way.

 “But that’s not why you brought me here…I know…” Lea led on, allowing the older woman to inspect her own rusty brown eyes. “And do not lie to me a second longer about it…”

 The tears began to well, almost on cue, Eiko thought. If this was going where she believed it was…

 “You know that I am…I have…strange urges…” Lea poured out, fighting to stifle a sob. “…And…and, I think…perhaps you brought me here to…mock me…”

 Yes, there it was, Eiko thought. Leopoldine Steiner was a gay woman.

 “I know…my condition is unnatural…and I have been actively fighting it my whole life, never to tell a soul…and yet here you are…why are you smiling again?”

 Lea was incredulous, and very close to crying hysterically. Eiko had to place her hands on her face to calm her down, and ensure her that she was most certainly not mocking her.

 “I…am smiling because I understand you. I understand, wholeheartedly, how you are feeling right now…because…”

The queen regent believed in that moment that she might have a fit, a warping of the mind. What was she about to do? Why was her face moving ever closer to Lea’s, her sparkling amber eyes, the rosy cheeks brightening her yellowish skin, the perfectly shaped lips, parted ever so slightly…she could feel hot breath on her own lips…

 And it was done. She had pressed her own to those lips, just begging ever-so sweetly for attention. They shared, and even relished in this intimate moment, neither one expecting, yet neither one doubting of it’s imminence. Lea initiated the intensity of the kiss, and pulled the older woman’s face closer by her collar, releasing the hidden desires that she had kept inside her heart for so long. After a few minutes of deep kissing and caressing, Lea felt she must somehow come back to her senses, and pushed the older woman away.

 “And what of your husband?” She shouted suddenly, realizing that she had been riddled with intense anxiety over what had just occurred. “And where is he, anyway?? Will he not think poorly on you for this?! What of my career? I am finished if you talk!”

 Eiko observed the woman wiping her lips on the back of her hand and gazing at them as if they didn’t belong to her at all. 

 “Please, do not do this. My husband knows of my inclinations. It is not the first time I have philandered with another—

 “Do not say any more! I do not wish to hear of your midnight romps over town! You will leave me alone!!” Lea insisted, shoving her body past the taller woman’s and storming out of the guest room towards the airship dock, where she made a sudden request to be flown back to Alexandria in the middle of the night. Eiko’s gaze followed her trembling frame outside the room, appalled at herself for how she attempted to conduct the situation.

 “…I must be smarter on this one…” she whispered, the southern wind whipping her hair into a frenzy before the stars in the sky, heartbreak plaguing her countenance.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I forgot to mention that Eiko's name in the story is Eiko Fabool-Carrey, and is married to a man who is regent, but we have not yet been introduced to him.
> 
> The end takes place on a similar timeline within the day-Lea is not yet aware of the extreme turmoil that is happening in Alexandria as she leaves Lindblum.
> 
> I meant to update sooner, but my computer got wiped and the file along with it. I had to rewrite everything from scratch, which was not fun, but it allowed me to improve the chapter and make it a little shorter so that it's more readable.
> 
> Any feed back of questions are welcome. Thanks for reading! Next update to come sooner than the last.


	5. Sense of Something Coming

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I am like a flag in the center of open space.  
> I sense ahead the wind which is coming, and must live  
> it through.  
> while the things of the world still do not move:  
> the doors still close softly, and the chimneys are full  
> of silence,  
> the windows do not rattle yet, and the dust still lies down.
> 
> I already know the storm, and I am troubled as the sea.  
> I leap out, and fall back,  
> and throw myself out, and am absolutely alone  
> in the great storm.
> 
> \--Rainer Maria Rilke, “Sense of Something Coming”

She wasn’t scared for herself in what she might see. Mostly, she was scared how to others would take it, how it would shake them till there was not a shred of hope left for Alexander’s Angel’s, how everything would fall apart before her eyes.

It scared her, the sheer fact that anything scared her at all. Lilia was, for the most part, fearless, but dreaded seeing anything happen to her friends or family. She knew that any hurt, any maiming or any death, would destroy any of the parents inside. She knew it was a bad idea for them all to get involved, especially those inexperienced in combat. The chances of one of them getting hurt or dying was marginally greater, the more of them there was.

Still, neither her parents nor the others’ parents died during Kuja’s tyranny decades ago, so it was a good sign of longevity for the lines.

Lilia arrived at the theater square where the horns seemed to sound, and found that it was mostly vacant, save for a few bodies circling. It was the men of the resistance versus Alexander’s Angels. Everyone was waiting for the first person to make a move, and then charge. Lilia was out of uniform at that hour, and none seemed to recognize her outside of it. Still, she always kept her sword with her, which to one man, was a dead giveaway.

She knew she was found. She felt a light rushing of wind behind her back and quickly turned around, sword swinging over her shoulder to meet the blade of a large, burly man with sleeves of tattoos. He looked rather like a Trenian gangster.

“Ay, ‘ere she is Boys! The Gen’ral’s daughter! Wanna try ya hand?” he shouted, Lilia backing up after the last clash to see six men inching towards her, expressions reading sinister.

“Oh, brother,” Lilia whispered under her breath, rolling her eyes and flipping her hair before taking the first one head on, almost immediately managing to jam the sword into his throat, the next immediately taking his turn, with Lilia ducking out of the way of the horizontal swing. She overhanded the blade into a slash that cut his leg off; the next attempting to bash her head in, but she was again far too quick. She forced her body around and slashed him across the chest, blood spraying onto her clothes, the man rolling onto the ground in screeching agony before he met his end. 

The three that were left, including the man who led his group into their doom, started to back away in fear.

“They all misjudge me by looks,” Lilia started, making clear she wasn’t going to let them back off. She flipped her hair once more. “Just like they’ve done to so many of us pretty Alexandrian soldiers…but when will you thugs learn?”

She swung her sword around and around her right side, a classic Alexandrian flourish. 

“This is a woman’s world!”

There was not another word, not another second of warning. Immediately she brought her sword over her head and leapt into the air, much higher than any of the men anticipated, and sliced open the head of the ringleader. The other two she finished off rather quickly, then turned her attention back to what was going on in the square. She spotted Bentley successfully winning a knife fight in the distance; Fredryck skewering a Lindblumese man with a spear, Zerrick artfully dodging a variety of attacks and mugging them in the process, and the rest of the crew, she could not find. All she could do was hope that they were ok. 

Another man came bolting at her, and she finished him off with a chest stab without a second thought.

“Wait a minute,” Lilia said as she realized someone was missing, throwing her sword back into its hilt in preparation to run. “Where is Crystal?”

With a pang of dread that refused to quit until she was seen, Lilia scoured the streets high and low for the princess, killing a few in the process. Everyone seemed to know who she was, and wanted a piece of her. Once she had scoured every street she could think of, she stopped and hid in an alleyway for a moment, trying to reassess where her friend might be. She became lost in worry when she heard sniffling behind one of the dumpsters. With a shimmer of hope, she checked for who was making the noise, sword at the ready, just in case. Her stomach dropped. She did not see Crystal, but an abandoned young girl who had gotten separated from her parents in the fray. The girl was trying to sob quietly, and did not see Lilia at first.

“Hey!” Lilia said, putting a hand on her tiny shoulder. “What are you doing in this alleyway? Where are your parents??”

Her eyes sparkled, bloodshot with tears. 

“They…they…my dad….I saw them…”

But she could not finish her sentence. The girl felt it then safe to cry loudly, curling up into a ball and shrinking away from Lilia.

“Hey, hey…shhh…don’t cry now, alright? Everything is gonna be ok. Where do you live? I’m going to take you back home. Is your mother home?”

The girl shook her head in an affirmative motion and Lilia picked her up to carry her home.

“I say, where do you live?” Lilia asked once more, carrying her towards the nearest residences. The girl sputtered out the number and street of the home, and Lilia was surprisingly able to deliver her to her mother without getting attacked. The woman was waiting on the doorstep for any sign of her husband and child, and when she saw Lilia carrying her back, the worried expression painted on her face was washed over with relief.

“Thank goodness!” She exclaimed, hand outstretched over her chest. “I thought I was going to have a heart attack!”

She grabbed the young girl and threw her onto her hip. She smiled and nodded at Lilia, grateful.

“Thank you so much,” she said, kissing her daughter on the forehead, immediately trying to get a better sense of who the hero was. When she realized who she was looking at, her face lit up with shock. “My goodness, you’re Lilia Steiner! It is an honor to meet you!”

Lilia shook her head in modesty. “It was no problem at all, m’am. Please keep your daughter out of the streets until the fighting has ceased.”

The woman nodded again in agreement, when Lilia noticed her face twist into dreaded concern, as the realization washed over her that her husband was not present.

“My husband…my lady, have you seen him?” She asked, half expecting the worst answer she could receive. Lilia didn’t want to be the one to break the bad news to her, as she would let her subordinates handle these matters.

“No m’am…I have not seen him. I found her alone. Please stay safe out here.”

It was all Lilia could bear. She turned her back on the mother and child, searching for clues about Crystal’s whereabouts with her eyes and ears. She made it halfway back to the town square when a deafening silence fell upon her ears. There was no more battle roars or clanking swords, the sounds of pattering feet and bodies hitting the ground. No, only a mellow lull, a droll humming of nothingness.

The Major knew this portended nothing good. 

She studied the silence for a moment more, before turning back to head towards the town entrance, a warrior’s intuition guiding her there. She felt there must be something amiss on the edge of town, if nothing was happening in the center. It was the place where the enemy could most easily enter, and she knew well that the guard set up around the outskirts was the weakest of all the soldiers.

It was a vantage point for intruders.

Knowing this, she dashed to where she suspected there might be trouble. Her pulse raced with dread, thumped through her temples and blurred her vision, so that she could only see her destination in her mind’s eye. A worry filled her entire body as she thought, very faintly through her tranced state, what might happen to her if she failed to protect Crystal, her sworn duty, her reason for living.

There was no time to think on it.

She finally came to the entrance of the town, at first not able to see anything but Crystal’s back to her. Relief flooded her instantly, and she grabbed her from behind, on the shoulders.

“Crystal! Why did you leave the square?? Do you know what could have—“

The princess’s face had no registry that she even acknowledged Lilia, that she had heard what she was saying. She realized the girl had been staring at something, distracted by it, taken by it, even possessed by it. She spun around to face the threat, expecting something quite large to leave Crystal at its mercy, but instead found a strange, faceless warrior clad in armor that was so foreign looking that it gave her an instant fright. The figure wore a large, round hat, many patterned robes and a cape that resembled a Samuri’s uniform, and a large, round, lion-like canine had been walking beside it. 

“W…who…what…is that thing?” Lilia asked slowly, backing away when the warrior stepped closer, hand resting on its hilt, steps even. For the first time in her life, she felt truly afraid of a potential opponent.

“I…I do not know…” Crystal answered, a vacancy shrouding her tone.

“You are not ok,” Lilia realized, taking her shoulders once more and turning the girl’s body to face her. “You’ve got to go back to the castle.”

Crystal fiercely pushed her away and turned her back to the warrior, intent on looking on, seeming to not care about Lilia at all.

“No…I must…understand you…” she droned in monotone, pointing at the figure. Her hand stretched out to greet it.

She was under some sort of spell, and Lilia wondered both if she had a chance to break it, or if she was next.

“I am due what I am owed…do not take it personally, my dear. It is my job,” the figure warned in a bass tone, in a very matter of fact way. Lilia understood that whatever it was, it was hired by someone, and aimed to kill the princess.

“Crystal, move out of the way!” Lilia demanded, pushing Crystal out of the way, and drawing her sword to strike a match with her opponent. The figure stopped moving forward, and its dog began to growl viciously, baring teeth and squatting into a pouncing stance.

“…It is not you I am after. I will only warn you once…move aside.”

“What are you? And how can I hear you if your lips are not moving?” Lilia asked the figure, who had no discernible mouth on its face. It became obvious to her that whatever she was facing, was not human, nor any creature of this world.

“You are not from this world.” Lilia stated, backing down slightly, unsure of what she was up against. “You are a warrior from another!”

“Indeed…a warrior, you might say. I do not know what Gods you call to action in this dimension, but I am not here to ask questions,” the figure stated, positioning its katana to fight. “I was hired to do my job and return to my world.”

“Who on Gaia would hire you from another world? What is the purpose of this?” Lilia asked, incredulous. “What is your name, warrior?”

The figure hesitated for a moment, then decided it noble to answer.

“The entity’s name is Yojimbo. I am a Fayth from the distant world of Spira. I have come for a mission, as I am no longer needed on my planet.”

“Spira? A planet not even in our galaxy? How would you be able to manifest such a body here if you are only in spirit?”

“That is enough questions,” Yojimbo interrupted, entering into final battle stance. “Move aside, or die!”

Lilia placed both body and sword in her signature stance, taut and ready to spring on her opponent.

“Nay, you shall be the one facing imminent death today!” Lilia declared, making the first move. She attempted to start with undercutting the warrior, but found it blocked quicker than she expected. This forced her to anticipate its move faster than she would normally, and she felt panic strike her heart when it performed a move that she just barely blocked, as she was wildly unfamiliar with its fighting style and technique. She skid backwards, dust kicking up behind her as her breathing became more forceful.

“You do not fight like you are from this planet. How is this to be a fair fight if I do not understand your technique?” Lilia questioned, trying to buy some time to figure out its weaknesses based on his body language.

But it did not give anything away. Instead, the figure simply laughed, standing quite still so that she could not read anything about it.

“That is because I am not of this planet, as I have told you. When you murder for hire, there is no such thing as fair or foul play. Only death,” it explained once more, crouching into stance again. “You will soon be with the souls of the dead, and return to the planet. Not so different from any other world in the universe. Maybe in your next life, you will be a bit more prudent in your endeavors, silly girl.”

Lilia gritted her teeth, not buying his words.

“Today is not the day I die, fool. You will not come to my home and make a mess of it!” She stated resolutely as she charged in a rage, attempting to hit it hard with stock break to knock it unconscious, but it moved away so quickly that Lilia didn’t have even a second to register what was happening before she was struck in the back with a reverse side of the blade, the air shooting from her lungs as she landed hard on the cobblestones. She tried desperately to restore the balance in her lungs, gasping for air in a way that she’d never experienced. The ground below her was spinning round and round as she propped herself up onto her palms, realizing blood was dripping from the corners of her mouth. She felt a small wind fly up behind her, and a small noise like a whistle accompanying it, and she realized immediately that if she didn’t move, she would be dead in mere moments. With the greatest strength she could muster, she rolled out of the way as the warrior slammed its katana onto the stones where she lay seconds ago. Her pupils dilated as she watched it raise its sword once again to swing down on her, the light of the stars in the sky above filling her green eyes. She rolled out of the way once more, but this time knew she had to get up and fight or die. She gathered her broadsword as she placed her weight on her calfs, and sprung up to greet its katana. The way the blades met was awkward.

“You are no match for me,” the figure said, more emotionless than ever. “The beings on this planet are incredibly weak.”

“That is where you are wrong!” Lilia retorted, dodging another one of his stabs only to have their swords collide once more. “Just a different skill set!”

“Once that is unmatched to mine,” the figure said before almost disappearing into thin air. Lilia thrashed around wildly, unable to understand how it was so quick. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a distortion in her scope of vision, and caught the warrior before its sword busted her open, a defensive stronghold required over her head. The warrior bore down upon her with such ferocity that she could barely hold its weight, and felt her feet slipping below.

“This was your ultimate test in life…and you have done well so far…but this is the end for you…”

With all her strength, she held the warrior off as long as she could, finally understanding that she truly was no match for them. She felt her muscles giving into fatigue, her legs slipping away from her in numbness, and her mind went blank.

It was over. She awaited death.

Then, the weight was lifted. She could feel her legs again. No more pressure, no more pain in her palms or arms. She opened her eyes and found herself in the defensive stance, with no one above her attacking. She peered down to the ground incredulously, the figure holding their hands over their ears.

A melodic sound filled the gentle breeze in the air.

Lilia looked behind her and found her sister had come out of nowhere, Celtic Harp in hand, playing behind her, a melody that was as rapturous as it was dangerous. She had been taken quite aback at the sight, and the lack of fear or panic present on her face, though she must knew her younger sister had almost died.

“I…I didn’t know you were a bard!” Lilia shouted across the space between them, eliciting a smirk from the elder sister, before her face returned to its natural stern default.

“This is no time to banter. I can only hold him off with this melody for a few minutes. Since he is not of this world, it affects him adversely. Crystal,” she shouted over to the princess, who appeared to have snapped out of her trance. “You need to summon! There was a spell placed on you before that prevented you from acting…I don’t know from whom or where but you must act now before it hits again!”

“Right!” Crystal shouted, stepping forward and holding her arms out in her summoning stance. “OH, GREAT DRAGON KING…COME FORTH, BAHAMUT!”

The clouds in the sky henceforth ashened, ascended, and a large, black hole observed the large dragon-beast barreling through it. It was quite the sight to behold, and gasps were heard all over town as they watched him float down from the realm he came from. The beast breathed in, fire speckles collecting before his mouth, before omitting a fire beam that reduced the sleeping warrior to ash. The dragon roared before disappearing back into his space-warp, and Crystal was left staring at the ashes. Something glittered inside them, and she walked over slowly to observe.

At this time, she heard the voice of Steiner echo through the houses of street behind her. Beatrix, Garnet and Zidane, who had recently come back from his trip abroad, had followed him.

“Princess! Please! Stay away from the dust of the monster! You do not know what it contains!”

Zidane sniggered and slapped Steiner on the back. “Calm down, Rusty, I don’t think she’s going to catch a disease just from studying it!”

“You do not know what strange counter-spells are left behind in the dust of the monster! Do not encourage your daughter to make foolish decisions!!” Steiner insisted, shaking his fists. Zidane shrugged and smiled at his daughter, whom he knew was more than capable of handling herself.

“It was not a monster, but a fierce warrior…” Lea explained, motioning to the harp in her hands. “I had to stave him off with music.”

“With music?” Beatrix asked, perplexed at the idea. “You mean to say…”

“Yes. I am a bard, it is true,” Lea finished, observing the instrument proudly. “I have learned how to funnel white magic from my mind, to my fingers and into the instruments, and the instruments change the magic’s nature allow defense…”

“W-Where on Earth did you learn about THAT?” Lilia questioned, mildly embarrassed that she had saved her life.

Lea smiled gently, worn out from the questions. “It is an ancient form of powerful white magic, one that people hardly utilize of late, despite it’s obvious effectiveness.”

“But how did you figure out that this…warrior…would be weak to your song?” Garnet asked, still trying to make sense of the situation.

Lea shook her head. “I’ve done many years of reading and research on the subject but have not had a chance to use it…save for the concerts. I bewitch and endow my instruments with magic.”

She realized what had come out of her mouth, knowing it was uncharacteristic to admit to such, and whipped around, blushing, to face her parents, who chose to ignore the admission of guilt. Crystal took this opportunity to turn back around and search through the ashes where she swore she saw a glimmer of a jewel. Sure enough, (and despite Steiner’s reprimands) when she reached into the pile she found a citrine stone present.

“Hey everyone! Come look at this!” Crystal encouraged, signaling for the group to come forth. She picked up the stone and allowed them to observe the strange ringlets of rainbow light that bounced off the glossy, orange surface.

“It seems he’s left a present for you…can you summon him through this jewel?” Beatrix asked, flipping her hair.

“It would appear that is why the stone was left! No summon is really from this realm, so they all need a passageway into the world. The stones are this passageway, as are the horns, until you have pure state of mind and a clear summoning channel through your body,” Garnet explained, gently taking the jewel from her daughter and observing it in the light of the fading sunset.

“Psht…why would you want to summon THAT guy though? Bahamut incinerated him in a second…” Lilia insisted, still hurt that she lost the battle. 

Crystal shook her head in disagreement. “I don’t think this summon was intended for large scale combat. It appears he was summoned for a very specific mission, but it is astonishing just how easy he was to defeat…”

“And somebody would have had to summon him! Who could have the power to summon besides the two of you and Eiko? And why on such a small scale as this summon?” Zidane stated, starting to catch on to the set up. Lilia grimaced and crossed her arms at the idea that she was almost defeated by such a “weak” entity.

“It was intentional. Whoever was able to summon this knew that we would, as a whole, be able to defeat it,” Garnet deduced. “But I still don’t quite understand how it was summoned.”

Zidane kicked a bit of dust on the street, placing his hands to his face in deep thought. “Well, it would either have to be an actual summoner summoning, or a mechanism…a machine of some sort, like The Invincible.”

At that moment, Bentley, Fredryck, and Zerrick followed behind the royals and their guard, huffing and sweating after just having ceased the fight.

“It’s over…” Zerrick began, wiping his forehead with the back of his hand. “All clear.”

Bentley ran towards Crystal and scooped her up in his arms, swinging her around and kissing her neck. Her put her down gently and cupped her face in his hands.

“Are you ok? You had me worried sick, I couldn’t see you anywhere during battle!”

The questions and kisses never stopped coming. Her showered her with both until she could take no more, and pushed him away.

“Yeah, ok! Babe, I get that you’re worried but I’m perfectly capable of fighting my own battles!” the princess insisted, pointing over to Lilia. “I even saved HER from— 

“Ok, enough,” Lilia interrupted, throwing an arm over Bentley’s shoulder. “Did you find any information this time? Any culprits?”

“No such luck…” Bentley answered, dragging his eyes away from Crystal’s solemn face to look at Lilia’s.

“But more importantly, who could have set this summon to kill the princess?! We must send out a search team!!” Steiner insisted, jumping up and down, desperate for an answer.

Beatrix simply shook her head in response, and everyone turned to listen to her input. “It was a test, more than anything. Nobody would send a summon as an assassin, knowing full well it could be obliterated with a stronger summon, which both the princess and Her Majesty possess…”

Zidane stepped forward to play detective aloud. “It couldn’t have been just anyone. It must have been someone with a considerable amount of power to be able to summon.”

“Or perhaps it were one of the three summoners we know of? Then what shall we do?” Fredryck added, glancing up at the sky, awaiting the reaction.

“What exactly are you implying?!” Steiner demanded.

“I’m not implying anything. It’s just that it’s highly unlikely that anyone would be able to summon a being from another dimension without being a summoner…” Fredryck managed to quip.

“That’s preposterous. Neither I, nor Crystal, nor Eiko would ever do such a thing…” Garnet chimed in, defending her family members.

“And how do you well know that?” Fredryck questioned, motioning to the queen. “You don’t know what kind of people the others are conspiring with in their darkest hours.”

“Enough of this,” Lea said, finally. “What we do know if that we must be on the lookout for suspicious activity—from anyone and anywhere. Pointing fingers is fruitless task without facts to back it up, Fredryck.”

The Burmecian prince backed down, silenced by Lea’s authority, knowing full well she would defend the queen’s honor at all costs. He sulked into the shadows of a nearby shop, and Bentley’s gaze followed his every move.

“This is unlikely to be the last large-scale, magic attack. We need to be watching for the signs of its presence,” Lea said, resolute in her plans. The rest nodded in agreement.

“And we’ll hold down the fort in town!” Zerrick exclaimed, glancing over at Lilia for approval. But Lilia was still lost in her thoughts, shaken at how fast she was almost defeated. Beatrix, suddenly feeling a pang of guilt, placed a hand on her shoulder, which she shook off.

“Leave me be. I have much to reflect upon…” Lilia said sulkily, turning her back on her family to walk towards the castle. She was only able to take a few steps before she was stopped dead in her tracks by a quake that shook the ground from underneath her feet, causing her to fall on her back to the cold, hard cobblestones. She felt her tailbone displace itself from the fall, and she yelped in tremendous pain.

“Lilia!” Beatrix and Steiner shouted in unison, and hurried to help their daughter off the ground, both lifting up each arm and carrying her weight on their shoulders. They all turned back around to witness what had caused the disruption, but could see nothing but trees shedding their leaves the distance. A heavy breeze passed through that soon turned into a gust, and everyone squatted down to remain in place against the wind. Slowly, but certainly, they all beheld the horrible reality unfolding in front of them; their fight wasn’t over for the day, but only beginning.

Zidane knew he had encountered a foe exactly like this before, and the battle wasn’t an easy one. Just the horizon, he could see the head of an ogre, the beast stomping forward slowly, but powerfully. As the beast began to reveal itself, the seasoned warriors urged their children to run, drawing their swords, daggers and staffs.

“No way, pops, I ain’t runnin’!” Zerrick yelled, whipping out his own dagger, ready for a big show. Bentley and Fredryck backed him up, while Lea took the reigns from her parents and held onto her sister, who was too injured to move.

“Lea—go! Take your sister back to the castle! She is of no use in her condition and will only find herself dead at the end of this,” Beatrix insisted, keeping firm focus on the beast. Lea nodded, and began to walk back to the castle through town, sister and harp in tow. 

Crystal and Garnet were the only ones not forming in battle stance. Both were still awestruck by the jewel, yet distraught at how the events of the day had unfolded upon their kingdom. The exchanges glances that not only detailed their misery, but also allowed the other to read their mind. Finally, Garnet whipped out her staff and Crystal began praying to the gods. Garnet smiled, then. She knew her daughter was praying to the Gods, aiding to her strength. She could feel her magic rise, in that moment.

She knew what she had to call on one of her most powerful summons.

The ogre moved ever closer, the impact of its steps cracking the foundations of houses and shops, shingles falling off the roofs, people scattering away from the commotion. Soon, it was in full view, and Garnet decided to make her move before it made its own. She raised her staff and looked up to the heavens, funneling all her willpower into summoning Ark, a summon that could obliterate the ogre, but not harm the city in its wake. Immediately the sky swirled into blackness, the large, red moon shining over Alexandria. The ship flew down from the heavens at the speed of light, pulling out all the blazing stops. Garnet watched her summon proudly, knowing intimately all its moves and exactly how badly it would hurt the ogre. She had worked hard to obtain the summon all those years ago, with plans to pass it onto her daughter. The summon placed itself in position to blast it’s mechanics in a deadly ray of force. 

Garnet began to notice something was wrong. The ogre took notice of the large ship in front of his face, and visibly angered. With one swipe of his fist, he brought it to the large entity, breaking off bits and pieces of the ship, so that it faltered for one moment. Garnet held her hand to her heart, praying for it to surpass the beast in power, and let out a sigh of relief when it finally released it’s deadly ray, a combination of one from the ship, and one from the heavens.

It hit the ogre in the heart, the beast yelling out in pain, and falling to the ground, but only on its knees. It appeared to be bleeding badly, but still conscious, breathing heavily in its pain. Garnet took a few steps back, shocked to pure terror that it wasn’t dead, anticipating what was next. The beast would make its final blows particularly violent.

“…We…we…have to run!” Garnet yelled to the group behind her, contemplating summoning another summon just finish the beast off.

But something wasn’t quite right. She slowly began to feel energy draining from her body. Soon, she became quite sleepy. Beatrix and Steiner flanked her at this moment, swords drawn and ready to fight.

“We will never run, your highness! We will protect Alexandria at all costs,” Beatrix insisted, rather incredulous that the queen would tell her to flee from battle, despite any dire circumstances. Steiner stayed silent this time, sweating at his brow, daunted by the beast above.

“I…I just think…” Garnet started to say…slowly inching toward the wounded, angered beast. “We’re in…danger here…”

“Dagger!!” Zidane said as her came from behind, pulling her shoulders back, realizing she was not being herself. “What’s the matter with you?!”

He looked around at the others as he held her back, noticing that Crystal was also acting in a similar fashion, groggily stepping towards the ogre, who was preparing to stand back on its feet.

“Please, snap out of it!! You’re in no condition to fight like this!”

“This is not good,” Zerrick added, aiding his father by holding his sister back. “They’re obviously not themselves. Something has taken over their minds. We’ve gotta get them outta here too!”

Zidane gritted his teeth, and glanced behind him at his two long-term warriors, ready to fight the deadly beast even in their old age.

“I can’t allow this. We’ve all gotta run until we can figure out a way to beat this thing!” he said, picking his wife up and turning to everyone else.

“How did you do it before, huh? Not by running, I presume,” Beatrix said, eyes never leaving her target.

“We were able to summon back then! They can’t summon in this condition!”

“I do not care of what you have to say. We fight for our kingdom, for our queen,” Steiner said to the consort, sure that he and his wife would never run.

“Haven’t you two learned anything in these years? Sometimes fighting is futile! Sometimes you just have to take a step back and re-evaluate!” Zidane pleaded with them.

“While this ogre destroys your kingdom, consort? My instincts tell me that your wife would be displeased if her top ranking officers took the cowardly way out…” Beatrix said, trailing off once the ogre finally screeched, and got back to its feet to fight. It was angry, stumbling around, swinging it’s fists in the air, targeting first a shop and smashing the roof to bits.

“We’ve not got a second to argue. Beatrix, now!!” Steiner commanded, and the two warriors launched forward to attack the thing’s legs. It saw them approach, and raised its arms to swing the two away. Beatrix was able to dodge the attack due to her speed, but the group watched in horror as one of the fists whizzed in the air, whistling straight toward Steiner, who was not fast enough to dodge, only to take the hit.

“STEINER!!” Zidane screamed out, sure that it was too late.

Suddenly, the ogre stopped mid-punch. It lowered its fists and gained an even stupider look on its face, almost as if it were confused, or in the wrong place somehow. Then, without a single waste in another moment, the ogre started to burn glowing red, hollering out into the air in immense suffering, before it exploded into large amounts of falling ash.

Crystal and Garnet were immediately released from their trance, and fell to the ground, each holding their temples in pain. The group dispersed in running to each one of them, lifting them off the ground to check for wounds. Zidane tended to his wife with an absent mind, knowing that something, or someone else destroyed the ogre, not his family. He turned his head back toward the entrance, feeling a familiar presence nearby. Sure enough, a slim, boyish figure was walking through the gates, gait strident, smirk painted on red lips, a feather placed delicately and stylishly in stark white hair. Zidane dropped his dagger in astonishment, and the rest caught on, glancing over at the figure approaching, mouths dropping open once realized who the person looked akin to. Finally, he stepped forward into their vicinity, and bowed his head and body in an introductory stance.

“Hello. My name is Kajal Tribal. I am the one and only heir of Kuja Tribal.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter this time around. I'm going to try and keep the chapters more short so that it is more readable.
> 
> I decided I wanted to add some summons from another world, as per request of a reader. So here you are! <3 
> 
> Zidane is a consort, not a king. Wanted to make that clear as I believe I have contradicted that fact in the second chapter.
> 
> Also: Lea appears right after she gets into Alexandria on airship from Lindblum, for anyone confused about the timeline of events this chapter.


	6. The Song the Orphan Sings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I am nobody, and I will be nobody too.  
> Now I’m too small to live, of course:  
> later it’ll be the same.  
> Mothers and fathers,  
> think of me.  
> Of course it isn’t worth the trouble of raising me:  
> I will be mowed down anyway.  
> Nobody can make use of me: it’s too early now;  
> tomorrow, too late!  
> I have only this one dress,  
> and it’s getting thin and bleached;  
> however, it will last an eternity  
> in the eyes of God.  
> I just have these few locks of hair  
> (they never change) that once  
> somebody loved.  
> Now he is through with love.
> 
> \--Rainer Maria Rilke, "The Song the Orphan Sings"  
> Translated by Robert Bly.

IXIXIXIXIXIXIXIXIX

The entire court of the three kingdoms was watching him pace the new Alexandrian court room. He had refused a lawyer, and just as well refused to sit at the table of the accused.

Garnet saw this as an admission of guilt, though she could not prove it.

It was a trial of sorts; he had chosen to be kept as a ward in Alexandria Castle during his imprisonment; Zidane feeling as though he couldn’t bear to throw him in the dungeons. He had looked too much like his dead brother.

And for as many terrible crimes he had committed against both Gaia and Terra, he was still that.

In his few weeks as prisoner he partook in dalliances around the castle; mostly opting to keep company with the female soldiers. He stood watch when they battled and critiqued them, much to Beatrix’s dismay. She quickly dismissed him from the training grounds, and forbade him to come around again. He resigned to simply meeting them afterwards in the barracks, and followed them around the grounds, making them laugh or ruminate deeply on philosophical notions they had not once before considered. Once Beatrix was finally able to rid the soldiers of him, he confined himself to the library, the dock at dusk, or took up private conversations with Zidane all through the night. 

The royal family and their guard watched on wearily, knowing that Zidane’s consent was needed for judgements. If Garnet had had it her way, the man may have been executed, but she was sympathetic to Zidane and his cause of empathy for all people. It was a great part of why she adored him so much.

Still, she couldn’t shake her intuition screaming at her: the man wants something. He wants something. Wants always turned into needs, and needs came with stipulations for the rest of them.

Many others in the court did possess such warm, fuzzy sentiments about the man.

He bore quite the resemblance to the former villain; his hair was white and long (sans feathers), and his wardrobe androgynous, though not quite as much as his predecessor. He was donned in mostly black with the splash of red or gold here and there, and wore a long earrings in both his ear.. He had a manner of speaking not dissimilar to Kuja, and a gait that left no doubt that he was at least part Genome.

“...It is simply my time to come forward...to meet my family and integrate myself in it. The place where I belong.”

“Then why has it taken so long to make yourself evident to us; your obvious family?” Garnet questioned, a heavy brown eyed-gaze piercing the thin, nearly translucently pale man. The others of the court nodded. 

“And let’s face it--why wouldn’t you want to get in on the riches of the Alexandrian Royal Family sooner?” Freya questioned, clearly skeptical of his sudden intent. Fratley nodded his head in agreement, and noticed his son smirking devilishly from the gallery where he was seated. He had always thought the boy should study Burmecian law.

“It is a peculiar thing to believe, that I should come forward as a child or young teenager. Sullen, insecure, riddled with doubt! Only to come into judgement such as this? For you must understand,” Kajal continued, motioning to the gallery where the general public sat. “For as much damage as my father has done to the world, I knew his sins would pass down and permeate...to taint my reputation, once white as snow!”

Zidane sat in the middle of all the royals present. He looked over to his right where Beatrix & Steiner sat. Beatrix held a look of sharp, yet controlled judgement, and Steiner looked at bit like a leaf about to shake off a fall tree, beet red with anger. He then peered into the gallery where Mikoto sat, wondering on her opinion. As usual, her expression remained emotionless, but he could sense her anxiety about the situation. She wanted the least to do with Kuja and his legacy.

“And you are how old again?” Garnet asked.

“I am 23.”

“So you’re even older than Lea,” Zidane said out loud, scratching his head. Zerrick balked. 

“Who is your mother?” Lea asked abruptly, before Garnet had the chance to.

“I wish I had the answer to that question,” Kajal stated, looking dramatically melancholy at that moment. Freya rolled her eyes.

“How do you know your father is Kuja?” Eiko asked, unamused. Lea’s head unwillingly jerked hard in her direction, red eyes locking blue eyes. They hadn’t spoken since their rendezvous in Lindblum. 

Kajal simply smiled at them, inspecting the scene, holding his hands behind his back as he paced the well of the room. “It was the tail. I noticed there were no subspecies of anthro that looked quite like me on the lost continent, so I did some research. As it turns out, recent biology books have Genome listed as a subspecies.”

He motioned over to the accused table before walking over and picking up the large, fat volume. He held it up for everyone to see and flipped through it until he found the page his proof was located on.

“Page 768 of The Complete Bestiary of Gaia, edition 56. It states, “Genomes are extraterrestrial creatures sent from the planet Terra, obtained from the inside of the planet. Originally intended to be vessels in the acquisition of the soulstream. Their characteristics include golden blonde hair with tails akin to those of primates. These subspecies of anthro have instead mated with and integrated their offspring with select other species on this planet, creating a yet unnamed subspecies of antho. They appear to possess a comparable level of intelligence to other anthro beings.”

“Mama!! Is that why that scientist guy visited us all those times?!” Jagger blurted out from the gallery, and his nanny promptly put her hand over his mouth to quiet him.

“I presume you’re one of them, then?” Eiko questioned, yawning and checking her manicure. “That still does not prove that Kuja is your father. Any one of these genomes could be your parents.”

“Not true,” Lea noted. “If he is indeed 23, then Kuja would have to be his father...unless Consort Zidane has fathered children he has no knowledge of.”

“It can’t be. Trust me, I would know if I had fathered a child! This ain’t my kid!” Zidane announced, inspecting the young man that stood before the court.

Steiner stood up, shaking his fist in the air. “But you!! Your hair is not blond like a Genome’s!!”

Kajal let out a sigh, proceeded by strange giggle. “I dye my hair silver. It helps me remember that I am Kuja’s son. Not to mention that Princess Crystal also does not have a trace of blonde in her hair...unless she dyes it, that is...”

“Just like he did…” Zidane noted, thinking back solemnly on his brother. “He did so much to cover up the fact that he was a genome…”

“And there are exactly four in this room...if you don’t count the one currently in utero…” Kajal noted, drawing distinctly direct attention from every single person in the room. Undecipherable babbling ensued.

“BE SILENT!” Lea screamed out, putting a halt to the rise in noise. 

Every royal, noble and common man turned their head to gawk at the queen, who fidgeted nervously, but kept her ground.

“Though it is wildly inappropriate of you to announce that to the court, I am curious as to how you know that, seeing as I have told only my husband, yet.”

The young man stepped forward and patted his temple with his left hand. “As I’m sure you have already guessed, every single genome and perhaps every single person with genome blood in them, has a special god-given talent. I am able to read minds. And during the course of this trial, your mind has drifted numerous times to your anxiety, praying that it does not affect your unborn child in an adverse fashion.”

Garnet skin ashened, and she gulped, knowing that he was telling the truth.

“Oh yeah?” Zerrick challenged from the stands. “What am I thinking right now, then? Huh?!”

Kajal waved him off and turned his back. “I do not much care what you are thinking right now. I have trained myself to tune in selectively over the years. This ability of mine had garnered much grief for me until I learned to control it.”

“Well, I don’t believe ANY of us have special abilities, really!” Crystal thought aloud, looking over at her older brother for validation. He nodded his head. “And if I do, it’s only because I am also of the summoner race...the most powerful Gaians ever to exist!”

“I don’t have an answer as to why none of you appear to be so special,” Kajal said, holding his head high and observing the many stained glass windows in the room, all of which cast a plethora of different colors over his features. “My only guess is that you all have some magical ability to some degree that you have not yet tapped into. My father’s was black magic. Zidane’s may have been his ability to trance and display devastating damage to his foes...”

“And you know this because you’ve read my mind?” Zidane asked, allowing some annoyance to color his tone.

Kajal turned his attention from the windows to Zidane. “I know this because I’ve read your history in books. You’re quite famous, you know.”

Eiko appeared to have had enough of his reasoning, and stood up to make her questions very direct, and very intimidating.

“That doesn’t make even a bit of sense. Kuja could do black magic because he was imbued with that ability through Garland. Zidane was given his Dyne ability, and he was wicked fast. There is no one to give these powers to these new genomes, yourself included. Someone...or something must have taught you that ability.”

Kajal stared her down, his icy blue eyes threatening hers. Eiko did not appear to feel uncomfortable by this exchange.

“This is all heresy,” Lea concluded. “Lady Eiko, if you would kindly take your seat so that we may continue--”

“Dare you challenge a queen, lowly puppet? Know your place in the court!” the older women cried out, quickly approaching her threshold of tolerance.

“I oversee all court activities in the Kingdom of Alexandria, now you will be seated!” Lea insisted, losing her own temper and slamming her hands down on the wood of the table.

“Enough of this! Eiko, sit!” Garnet ordered. The younger royal had no choice but to obey, as she was not currently in Lindblum where she ruled. She sat down grudgingly, and said no more.

Lilia sniggered from somewhere in the gallery. Lea recognized and took note of it.

“May I inquire of your upbringing?” Crystal asked, politely, solemnly. “You must have parents of some sort.”

“All I know is that when I was a baby, I was found in Fossil Roo, in between a large boulder and a wall. I was left there to die.”

“Yes, the classic tale of woe!” Steiner shouted. Beatrix nudged him in the ribs, causing him to yelp inwardly.

“Now, Master Steiner, we must let him tell his story!” the elderly Doctor Tot explained slowly, one hand over his beak as he focused very intensely. Kajal smiled and bowed at the doctor. He continued.

“I was, of course, found by a miner when he heard the cries of a babe...from there, they were uncertain what to do with me, save for kill me off just to spare me the life of an orphan. One of the miners petitioned for my life, however, and they resolved to have me sent off the Esto Gaza, where the Great Monks agreed to raise me and subsequently take me on as a child apprentice. So, I was raised as a Monk in Esto Gaza, but as a child, I always knew I was very different from other people.”

“So what is your real name?” Fratley asked. 

“My given name is Robert Smith, a silly, boring name, wholly unsuited to me. I changed my name once I found out about my lineage.”

“You certainly do not have the appearance of a monk…” Beatrix noted, quiet until now.

“Ahhhh yes...I am no longer a monk, you see. I have taken on a new life as a gambler in Treno...I never lose my bets because I can read the minds of those who are foolish enough to try and play on my level.”

“How noble of you! Stealing people’s money for a living…” Freya noted scathingly.

“Hey, now!” Zidane defended his nephew. “I used to do that too!”

“Well, it is one way for me to make a living, certainly…” Kajal continued, paying no mind to Freya or Fratley, who were looking at each other with extreme skepticism. 

King Puck, who did not much care to be a king at all, usually had Freya and Fratley do his all of his bidding. He twiddled his thumbs the entire trial. “It sounds like a fair living to me!”

The gallery began to talk amongst themselves, and it became increasingly noisy in the room. Lea became irritated with not being able to hear the important parts of the trial, and ordered another silence. Lilia couldn’t help but stare at Zerrick, who looked distressed that the pompous, wealthy orphan man may be his cousin.

“You still have not answered the real question that everybody is trying to get at…why did you come now? After all this time? What with the riots and the suspicious activity in the kingdom as of late….it is strangely convenient,” Garnet said, only looking at the ground before Kajal’s feet.

“I cannot disagree...but it is quite the buzz around Treno that the kingdom is struggling to keep enough forces to hold down the riots...and if I am not mistaken...many of the rioters are hailing from Treno. After years of keeping to myself and denying my heritage...I felt that I must step in to take matters into my own hands...to prevent any more harm from befalling Alexandria.”

He smirked and closed his eyes, placing a hand to his temple. He made it quite clear that he was reading someone’s mind. In a sudden realization, his eye burst open, pupils dilating and lashes fluttering.

“Lady Eiko...I would also like to help you find your parents...I cannot read their minds, as there is interference somewhere...but they are alive…”

It took the young royal a moment to process what she had heard, but she stood up immediately once it hit her, clutching her chest, tears welling in her eyes. 

“M-My...parents? They...they died in an airship crash 2 years ago!”

“That was only presumed, yes? They found the wreckage of the Hilda Garde III but never found the bodies of Regent Cid and Lady Hilda, am I correct?”

Eiko nodded, now needing the table below to balance herself against falling over in shock.

“Where are they?! Can we go pick them up?!!”

Kajal turned his back to the court once more, beginning to pace, hands behind his back.

“As I said... I have no information of where they may be. I can only faintly get a mental signal from them…”

“And you cannot find a location?” Garnet asked, desperate for her cousin.

“No. There is psychic interference.”

“This is all still quite convenient,” Freya echoed Garnet. “How are we supposed to just let you run free when there is so much suspicion surrounding you? And what of the summoners that became hypnotized during the fight with Yojimbo a month ago?”

The young genome shrugged. “Innocent until proven guilty. What I can tell you is that there is an alien presence here in Alexandria; one that is somehow fogging up the minds of the summoners...I do believe it is a presence that can sense the immense impact of your energy and attempts to feed off of it, or perhaps block it...as far as my powers range, I have no way of telling you what it is or where it lies, or what it is here for, or how it exerts its power...but I can help you stave off its presence…”

Crystal and Garnet looked at each other worriedly, and gulped.

“And how do we know you do not have anything to do with these attacks?!” Steiner yelled at him.

“What reason would I have to hurt my family? This is why I didn’t come around sooner...I knew I would stand accused of some crime I did not commit simply because my father was a terrible person. But alas, I am not he.”

Garnet shook her head and stood up. “He is right. We must acquit him of any wrongdoing if we do not have proof. It is unethical to even hold a criminal trial for someone who is not charged of a crime in the first place.”

“If he were a simple civilian you would have charged him! There would be no doubt he had something to do with all this mess!” Freya said, standing up to walk out of the courtroom in disbelief.

“Wait just a minute!” Eiko ordered, stopping the dragoon in her tracks. “Kajal, can you help me find my parents??”

Kajal did a move eerily similar to Kuja, in that he bowed to Eiko. “Yes, Your Majesty. I will help you as much as I can.”

“Let us have a vote then,” Garnet announced. “All those who vote him innocent, please rise.”

Reluctantly, all members of the court rose and placed their right hands over their hearts. Even the skeptics unable to convict without evidence, and followed in suit.

“It is settled, then,” Lea projected to the gallery, banging her gallet. “Kajal Tribal, as you have named yourself, are acquitted of any crime under Alexandrian jurisdiction. You are free to roam the commons as you wish.”

The court got up from their seats to attend the grand lunch hosted by Alexandria, fully expecting Kajal to be present and questioned further on a smaller scale. Zerrick and Crystal, however, stayed put in the room a little while longer, staring at each other in great distress.

“Zaz, I don’t have a good feeling about him,” Crystal finally spoke up.

“I don’t either,” Zerrick’s voice echoed through the empty room, scratching his chin and looking up at the beautiful stained glass that covered the walls of the room. Each one was a strikingly painted image of every one of his mother’s beloved summons. She designed the room to look very similar to the Eidolon Wall.

“I know he his half genome, but he is not like us...he is...different somehow. I don’t know. Something about his energy feels foreign to me,” Crystal answered, focusing on the glass of her most beloved summon, Alexander. “Now that I have my full summoner’s training finished...I can take him on if need be. We simply have to watch for him to make a wrong move!”

“But what if...he really is innocent? And we’re just...somehow...paranoid or something?”

Crystal shook her head, and broke her own visual connection to the portraits by standing. She placed a yearning hand on the royal pendant her mother had gifted her at the end of her training in Madain Sari.

“Trust me...he’s not, by any stretch of the imagination, innocent. The riots have been too quiet as of late for that.”

“Yes...that is very true. And holy shit, Crys, we have another sibling on the way?!”

“You’re thrilled?” she answered, shaking her head as she walked down the steps to the well. “Jagger is a handful enough.”

“What, you don’t want a sister?!” He teased. 

IXIXIXIXIXIXIXIXIX

 

Weeks went by before Lilia was able to get back on her feet and train again.

She was physically injured to the point of immense pain, even with the slightest movement, but it was her psychological state that kept her in the lowest of spirits, inside the prison of her own mind.

Her parents had allowed her to stay in her old room to heal her wounds, Beatrix keeping a vigil over her whenever possible. Mostly, she liked to watch her in sleep, if only to make sure her daughter didn’t somehow try to leave life behind by sheer will of death. She understood that her daughter had been broken by her defeat, so much so that she would speak of the most dire and distraught circumstances for how she believed the remainder of her life would play out.

“Darling, do not say such things. Please rest,” Beatrix would counter, almost shaken to the point of tears for her youngest daughter. Lilia would shake her head defiantly. Tears not for pity, but for truth, would roll down her cheeks, glistening by the light from the window, shifting in her bed as to lay so her back was turned to the woman who loved her most.

Only one of her children could make her this emotional.

This went on for days upon days. Sometimes, Steiner would take over the watch and Lilia seemed to be in better spirits after his visits. He had a way with her, coming back to their quarters after hours long conversations in high hopes that she would recover from her hysteria, which was the only thing Beatrix could define it as. 

She often sulked at the edge of their bed, shoulders slouched, eyes low. Steiner sat beside her and held her hand, trying to estimate the amount of pain Beatrix felt at not being able to provide their young daughter with solace. He knew that she lived for her children, if nothing else, and her life would cease to have any true meaning without them. 

After the atrocities both had committed, their daughters had immediately breathed new meaning, joy and love into their lives. Neither could bear the idea of anything terrible happening to them.

The room glowed with an authentic warmth that only the moon could provide. Steiner didn't know what to say to her at first, and got up from their bed to light the candles in the room so they could both see inside the small room. Beatrix paid him no mind, her face painting a thousand words as she peered out the window, sulking. Steiner stood at the opposite side of the room, unable to resist watching her heavenly, timeless beauty bask in the glow that encased her form. Though she often looked sad, her sadness with filled with a constant, undeniable glory. He couldn't bear not being able to find the words to say, and sat back down next to her, mind brimming with the potential of just one sentence. Even still, she did not look at him, only now at her lap. Knowing her truly, intimately, understanding her dreams, emotions, passions, and fears, all contributed to his belief that he was the luckiest man on Gaia, even if she still believed herself some kind of monster after all the years passed. 

“Lilia…she will recover in due time. Simply, be patient and keep speaking with her,” Steiner found the words to say, gripping her hand tight, attempting to read her expression. Her face wept, though she was not crying.

“I…I am afraid I have been too hard on her. That she will never come to trust me again. That I have soiled her existence in some way by simply being her mother,” Beatrix began, placing her free hand on her stomach, sickened by the idea. “I never wanted this life for her, you know that well. This is just one of many reasons…”

Steiner nodded his head in empathy. “But this is the life she chose, you know. Neither of us bargained with her—it simply is.”

“We led her by example. She saw us, fighting for our beloved country…loyal, unwavering…and she was inspired by us. She felt that what we had accomplished were the greatest feats on Earth, and perhaps they were at the time,” Beatrix reasoned, her focus shifting to all the many innocent civilians she had massacred. “Still...she doesn’t understand the traumatic stress disorder that ensued upon me...unable to forgive myself. I wanted to leave the army and never come back, perhaps to off myself, to find new life...I don’t know what I was thinking. I never once intended for this body to bear a child, to bring a beautiful soul into such an ugly world, let alone allow either to be dragged into such a bloody, fruitless existence as the one I have led.”

Steiner found no answer to this. He held her hand still, trapped in the comings and goings of each individual point filtering through his brain. He understood that Lilia had willingly chose such a life, and thus, could do nothing to stop it. He felt her pain as a mother, only slightly less acutely as a father, but somehow knew that his daughter would come through the entire ordeal.

“But she will not lead the life you did! You made sure she will lead a much better one! You...will drive yourself mad if you keep blaming yourself for her shortcomings or failures...she must come into herself. Do not forget your own advice you had given me...we all must let go of her process...”

Beatrix turned to him and pleaded into his intense, dark brown eyes, always brimming with passion.

“Darling, we have had this discussion countless times, I am aware. But...do you not feel her slipping away from us?”

The captain contemplated this for a moment, his usual scowl deeper than ever.

“It would only be a natural progression...she is merely a teenager, yet. Do you not remember being one yourself?”

Beatrix pondered this point for a moment. It was unusual for Steiner to be the voice of reason. She placed her hand on his, resting on her thigh, thankful that he was taking the time to really listen to her.

“Only the rather unfortunate predicaments,” Beatrix started, flipping her greying hair. “And therein lies the problem. Even if I did, how could I have predicted the girl become so haughty? Save for the fact that you are her father…”

Steiner smiled at the thought of Lilia’s familiar nature, focusing on the ground at his feet.

“And my sweet Leopoldine...never this unruly, never once gave us any problems,” he mentioned, now thinking fondly on his first born.

“Ah, yes. An old soul if ever there was one…” Beatrix trailed off, remembering that Lea was supposed to perform calming harp music for Lilia. “And speaking of Lea, was she ever summoned to see her sister this evening?”

“No. Lilia petitioned me request a postponement of the music healing sessions,” Steiner replied, removing his hat and head mail, scratching the back of his silver-haired head. “She is still quite bothered by the memory of Lea saving her life during the fight with the new summon...”

Beatrix suddenly frowned at him, eye blinking in confusion.

“Why would you allow for that? Lilia needs music therapy now more than ever!” Beatrix scolded as she removed her uniform and hastily changed into her nightgown. “Of course she’s going to be a tad bitter over the fact that her sister saved her!”

“She should be thankful, certainly,” Steiner reasoned, not wanting to upset Beatrix further and attempting to put himself in his daughter’s shoes. “I simply...have the feeling that she feels inferior to Lea. She’s besotted with this strange notion that Lea does everything perfectly, and that she cannot live up the standard that she sets...”

“That is absolutely preposterous! She cannot possibly use that as her reasoning!” Beatrix said coldly. "And you just assumed this?! We will discuss this later."

She tied the last string on her nightgown and left storming out of the room, leaving Steiner mildly shaken, wondering what he could have said differently, to get him in less trouble.

She opened the door to her daughter’s room without knocking, and found Lilia inspecting her broadsword. She rolled her eyes when her mother came through the door frame.

“Can’t I have one minute of damn peace? Your favorite child just left! After proudly chiding me, might I add!”

“Enough from you or I will injure you further!” Beatrix snapped, roughly grabbing the chair next to her bed before sitting down hard on it.

“Is that what you want?” Beatrix asked again, this time causing Lilia to stare angrily at her sheets, bracing herself by clutching them in her hands.

“My pride and joy,” the general softened, starting to heed seriously what Steiner had said about her inferiority complex. “Do you truly wish to get better? To heal your body and mind so that you may get back to training?”

Lilia had all her answers lined up. 

“Yes mother, I do. But I will never heal with her taunting me at every end! It is almost as if she despises me so and loves to remind me of why I am less than her!”

Steiner was right. Beatrix shook her head, chuckling at the notion.

“Lilia Rosamund, you are being ludicrous. Lea would not have saved you were it not for her deep, profound love for you as her only sister.”

“We have no such bond,” Lilia stated plainly.

Beatrix kept her gaze fixed on her daughter as not to appear intimidated, but she swore she could feel the last of her brown hairs turn grey.

“There is not a thing I can tell you to make you forgive your sister, but please let her at least aid you with her healing magic.”

“And that’s the real kicker too, you know?” Lilia told her mother, pointedly. “She can even perform white magic.”

“That of which is different from your own,” Beatrix pointed out, reaching over to run a hand through Lilia’s chocolate brown ringlets. “You have your own extraordinary talents, those of which she was always jealous of growing up.”

Lilia allowed her mother the pleasure of touching her without recoiling. Beatrix’s heart soared as she cupped her youngest’s face in her hands.

“You father and I love you with a fervency hotter than a thousand suns. We do not want anything to happen to you, but you must understand our struggle to balance discipline with care.”

“Maybe I don’t need cared for,” Lilia stated sullenly, only staring at the bouquet of red roses on her nightstand.

“We all need cared for. A human touch, a gentle hand, the help of friends and loved ones,” Beatrix mused. “It gives one’s life meaning. It took me many, many years to finally realize and accept this.”

Beatrix didn’t know where she would go from this part of the speech, when an idea suddenly hit her.

“You know,” she began in a tone so unusual to her regular speech patterns, that Lilia’s ears perked up. “I was not always so talented. As a girl in Treno, the only thing I was ever truly known for was my affluent lineage and my ‘supposed’ beauty. I was not gifted in any sort of way, never thought myself as beautiful, none of it. To me, I was simply a lost child.”

“But you played the piano as would a virtuoso, did you not?”

“No, never like that. And you--a truly skilled warrior, showing marks even from a young age. I did not start my first lick of training until I was your age, and I was not very good,” Beatrix remembered, almost grinning at the memory. “And to be quite frank, I never did understand why General Marceline decided to recruit my sorry self. A foolish girl at best, run away from home with only one hope for solace.”

“Oh,” LIlia said, her tone tinged with shock. “I...didn’t know about all that.”

“What? You suppose I was immediately an expert at everything I attempted? Hardly so. I never really even took knighthood seriously. For me, it was a welcome escape from the living hell of my girlhood. I was safe here in Alexandria...for the most part.”

Lilia pondered this statement, “But...how miserable would you have been? I know you do not like to speak of your family and your childhood, but I am curious as to how growing up with such affluence could possibly make you so miserable!”

Beatrix chuckled, moving aside to start arranging things in Lilia’s room, despising clutter.

“...You know that money does not produce happiness. Nor does power over the weak. You were raised in affluence, and dare I say, you are not so happy now!”

“I suppose that is true,” Lilia admitted, biting her cheek. “But I am still quite curious to hear about your story. For instance, what was your mother like? And your father, too?”

The general shook her head and continued the cleaning, not making eye contact. “My father passed away many years ago, and I do not keep in touch with my mother, as you know.”

“But what about Claudia!! What was the hook up there?”

“She is King side, my second cousin. They asked me to allow her to meet the prince since she was such a fan...and it seems like it is working out fairly well…”

“But that’s the last you’ll tell me of your family, yes?” Lilia concluded, turning her back to her mother by rolling into her bed.

“I’m afraid so. Are you tired, my girl?” Beatrix prodded, moving over to the bed and pushing the covers over Lilia’s shoulders. She allowed one of her hands to caress the girl’s hair once more. “Will you now sleep?”

“Well I’m not going to listen to Lea play that stupid harp, if that’s what you’re asking!”

IXIXIXIXIXIXIXIXIX

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was totally going to make this chapter longer, because it is mostly dialogue, but then I realized I haven’t posted a new chapter since August! GASP! So I’m just going to leave it as is. I don’t want to leave you guys hanging, and I want this to be one of the most exciting FFIX fanfictions ever written. (We’ll see about that one).
> 
> As far as Leopoldine’s name and how it is presented, I had to shorten it basically at all times, in and out of speech, because it makes me wary to type out, so I’m sure it’s tiring to read. 
> 
> The NEXT chapter will be a very important one, as it will detail some of the inner workings of what is going on in the heads of our heroes (or not), and I will post that one shortly after this one. There are inspirations in this story that I am drawing from both FFVII, and FFX, my second favorite FFs. So if you see something in the storyline that sort of echoes those games, you’ll know why! Not a crossover per se, but almost.
> 
> The Beatrix full backstory on her childhood and entrance into Alexandria is to follow. My goal is to shed some light onto her character, her masks, her trauma, and why she has acted in the way that she does in the past. The Beatrix and Steiner connection is well thought out and revamped from what people usually assume, as I think my theory makes the most sense with the storyline in the game.  
> !
> 
> I am super excited about where this story is going, and I hope you all are too!


	7. Lady on a Balcony

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Suddenly she steps, wrapped into the wind,  
> brightly into brightness, as if singled out,  
> while now the room as though cut to fit  
> behind her fills the door
> 
> darkly like the ground of cameo,  
> that lets a glimmer through at the edges;  
> and you think the evening wasn't there  
> before she stepped out, and on the railing
> 
> set forth just a little of herself,  
> just her hands, --to be completely light:  
> as if passed on by the rows of houses  
> to the heavens, to be swayed by everything.
> 
>  
> 
> \--Rainer Maria Rilke, “Lady on a Balcony”

Garnet was well aware that her children were waiting for her to speak.

She paced around the large room, wringing her hands together, strands of hair glittering in the stray light of sunset, filtering in beautifully from the window. 

Portraits of the two eldest children, painted years before Jagger was born, seemed to track her every movement, as if they had come alive, with moving eyes. As if they were looking to her in hope, a hope that could only be sustained in a privileged, pleasant, and peaceful past. What would they have thought of her if they could see her now, a complete and utter nervous wreck, totally defeated, somehow failing in her job as a leader, though she had expended all her resources? It was to the point where even Lindblum was stumped on how to help, and upon thinking of this she became light headed and had to take a seat.

Zidane watched those stray strands of her hair floating through the air, as if they were simple dust particles awoken in a minor disturbance. He wanted to pretend he couldn’t feel her anguish, her anxiety, but the energy of the room was thicker than anything he’d yet had to endure in his existence. 

He imagined how she used to laugh, the honey-laden tone of her voice wafting through the room, plentiful as a canary’s song, placing her scone back on the plate and patting her lips, her heels clicking on the floor rhythmically, dancing so freely, weaving in and out of light. He used to watch the dust kick up from the floor and join in the joviality, they would be sipping tea, and conversing about the universe, and relaxing into the beautiful give and take of what was their early years of marriage.

They had been so in love.

He often daydreamed about simpler times, times when they weren’t caught up in parenting or another potential war, when they would travel the globe constantly. There was no time, no day or night, no dates. Just the two of them, face to face with endless possibilities. He caught a flash of her expression, when she had seen a wonder of the world for the first time. All too brief, and at once gone.

Now, she’s seen it all.

His right hand twitched in an urge to reach out and touch her the way he used to. Garnet rarely wanted to have conversations anymore, let alone be physically intimate, perhaps because of the stress of her pregnancy. 

He regretfully turned his head away from his stumbling wife to his bright, yet naïve children. 

Zerrick was leaning against a wall near the large window in the front of the room, crossing his arms and looking upon the grounds outside. Crystal was sitting pretty with Jagger in her lap, both quiet, somber, not knowing exactly what they were waiting for. He smiled sadly, warmly, at her. He managed to also break a smile at Jagger, and the little boy smiled back. Zidane looked once again at Zerrick, but he would not look at him.

The queen’s breathing started to slow. Zidane could feel her gaining concentration and attracting the right words. She took another few deep breaths, then closed her eyes with unmistakable conviction behind the lids.

“As I’m sure you’ve all figured out by now, it has been decided to temporarily close off Alexandria’s borders to all commoners who are non-Alexandrians. Leopoldine and her team are currently in the process of devising an identification system, while Beatrix and Steiner are figuring out how to secure and foolproof all borders, including the Gargant system, so that nobody can enter without passing through a tight security checkpoint.”

She looked first at her husband, then her children, bore into each of them with her gaze.

“…And as I’m sure you all know, that means no visitors unless mandated by royal order, and all current visitors must leave until further notice,” Zidane added weakly.

Zidane first checked Crystal’s reaction, and it came as no surprise to him when her expression turned up in a wash of sadness and disgust. She took a ruffle of her dress in hand, and clutched hard.

“That means…Fredryck…”

“Yes, he must go back home. To keep him here under our new order would mean that he is a ward, and with such elevated tensions we cannot have anyone from any of the nations thinking that we are keeping a Burmecian hostage.”

The princess peered at her mother sternly then. She wanted badly to keep her stance resolutely in letting him stay, but she knew it was no use, and deferred her attention back to stroking Jagger’s arm.

“None of this makes sense anymore,” Zerrick spoke abruptly, aggressively walking over to his dad. “How did things even get to this point? Neither of you have done anything wrong! All you’ve ever tried to do was keep the peace…and…and…rebuild nations!”

Zidane shook his head. “I know, son. But we’ve learned over the years that peace never lasts. And with a new generation, comes new concerns.”

“I suppose it is that the new generation thinks we haven’t done enough for them, that they’re still owed something,” Garnet interjected. “We are still not sure if there is anything we can do to dissuade them…or perhaps quell their fears…save from keeping them in check with force and imprisonment. We may have to recruit more soldiers, if so. It is the only way that we can see out of this.”

Crystal made it clear that she was vehemently against her parents’ unusually negative outlook. 

“But this isn’t you, mother! Father! None of this! The Zidane and Garnet of old would have never resorted to the submission of their people! We only kill when lives are in grave danger; and we never jail our citizens fir exercising their right to speech and protest!”

“Trust me, dear…it’s not what we want, nor what we ever planned for…”

“What she’s saying, mom, is that there has to be a better way! Can’t we…you know, work out a deal with these resistance people?” Zerrick asked. Crystal nodded in agreement, head darting back and forth between her parents with a pleading expression.

Garnet opened her mouth to speak, entirely hesitant. “You…you know we can’t start making deals with the common people. That would make us look like weak rulers, who are easily manipulated with simple violence—

“Easily manipulated with violence?! Like what you’re going to employ towards the people?” Zerrick shouted.

“Alright, everyone calm down…you both know that we would never resort to submission tactics unless we deemed it absolutely necessary,” Zidane added, waving his hands around in a circular motion. “Beatrix and Steiner have recommended we start using a newfound kind of force on the general population.”

“Once you commit to something like this you become a dictator-type ruler! Or a classic monarch! It is absolutely insane—you can’t go back from that!!” the young prince argued passionately. 

Garnet could not handle seeing her children so upset, and burst into tears, hiding her face in her hands. Zidane hurried to her side, kneeling down to start rubbing her back in comfort.

“Mommy! Did Crissy and Zaz make you cry?? Why would they do that to you?” Jagger asked, sweetly, innocently.

“This is no conversation for the boy to hear,” Crystal decided, throwing him onto her hip and attempting to walk out of the room with him.

“Come back with him!” Garnet snapped through her sobs, reaching her hand out for her youngest son. “Give him to me! He must hear it all!”

The princess whipped around, incredulous. She looked to her father for support. “He’s six years old for god’s sake! What could he possibly gain from this—save for fear?!”

Zidane didn’t reply and instead looked to his wife for the answer. He never talked over her or tried to assert his opinion over hers—she was the queen, after all. Garnet took a deep breath and closed her eyes with a hard swallow.

“I will not hide anything from him…nor shelter him from the world…as my mother did me. Everything will be 100% transparent for him,” she explained, reaching out once more. “Give him to me.”

Crystal briskly stormed up to her mother and put the small boy in her lap. He wrapped his arms around her neck and clung onto her for dear life, tail flicking, at once trying to kiss all her tears away. This caused for a smile to light up her features for a simple flash, but soon returned to dire seriousness. 

“This…this is not a conversation your father and I ever, ever wanted to have with you children. You know that. We simply… genuinely do not see a solution in the near future.”

Zidane pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket and handed in to his wife, who wiped her tears away onto its snow-white surface.

“Listen,” Zidane began, standing up to face his children. “We have to look at things this way. We’re making temporary improvements so that we may affect lasting change. If we don’t act quickly, we will be seen as incompetent rulers with no intent to keep our city safe, civil, or organized. By closing our borders, booting out the non-citizens, and subduing anyone who acts out, then we can start to improve the life of Alexandrians. That means no more rebels, no more resistance, or Alexander’s Angel’s, and Beatrix must retrain the army and guide them into fighting tactics of submission instead of slaughter if we are to avoid casualties. These are things that should have been done years ago. ”

“And would you then keep them in a dungeon? Hm? Torture them for information, perhaps?” Crystal quipped cynically. “It’s a fate worse than death. Our dungeons are notoriously empty. Aren’t you proud of that??”

“Well, killing them certainly isn’t working. They keep multiplying, like roaches. If we don’t get it under control faster, and find out who they’re working for, we’re facing a coup. Do you not realize that?” Garnet asked, motioning to her oldest son. “The security and guarantee of your future as the king rests upon us acting now. We must do a complete turn around of our ways in order to rid ourselves of all our skeletons in the closet, the ones we tried to shove away by simply making reparations instead of rooting out enemies of the throne head on.”

Zerrick’s fists clenched, jaw gripped, veins in his temple thumping. He kicked dust into the air from the carpet he was standing on. “Maybe I never wanted to be king! Did you ever think about that?”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Garnet’s voice shook, looking at Crystal. “Crystal will not do it as she has a mission in life to become a summoner. Now, do not be a jester. You are more fit to be on the throne because your hobbies are ignoble.”

“Ignoble?! How is treasure hunting ignoble? Zerrick defended himself before turning his back to walk out the door like his sister had done moments before. “Damn you and all your conventions, your propriety, the whole lot of it! You don’t respect me even a damn trifle!”

“Now hold up there, Zaz!” Zidane hurried after him, grabbing his shoulders and turning him back around. “You know you don’t walk out on your mother when she’s speaking! Why don’t you just hear her out?”

“And didn’t you just hear her out?” He snorted. “She just insulted your entire life’s work.”

Zidane sighed and shook his head. “I haven’t treasure hunted in years.”

“That’s not the point!”

“Well, Zaz, we all have responsibilities now,” Crystal deferred, throwing herself down onto a large, plush chair. “We’re not going to win this battle, no matter how hard we try with force and violence.”

“And you just give up,” Zerrick spat. “Closing off our borders will never do the job. It will just enrage the rest of us who truly want to help. Working steadfast to find out where the poison is leaking from IS the answer! It won’t just…weed itself out! That’s the whole mission of Alexander’s Angels!!”

Zidane sighed and stamped his foot on the ground. “Ok, seriously, enough you guys! Please…just…trust us that we’re doing the right thing, here. Your mother and I have seen far worse than this scenario and we’re willing to put everyone in the kingdom to work to make sure this doesn’t escalate. But we absolutely need your cooperation.”

“No more Alexander’s Angels. You’re just going to have the army take over.” Crystal said in a voice void of any tone. “Do you really believe we can trust Beatrix to do the right thing by her people? With her track record?”

Garnet nodded her head. “I have more trust in her than a thousand of Alexander’s Angels. In the years past, she has done nothing but prove her loyalty to me and her people, steadfast.”

The older sibling chimed in once more. “Well, maybe it isn’t her you should worry about. It’s hotheads like Lilia, god love her soul…people that join the army for the glory of bloodlust.”

“I do not see such in Lilia. She simply wants to please her parents and prove to them that she is enough,” Garnet continued. “And I believe our soldiers all have Alexandria’s best interest in mind as well.”

Crystal got up to leave. No one tried to stop her as she placed a hand on the golden door handle. She rested her hand there briefly, drumming on it with curiosity, then turned around to look her father square in the eye.

“You…have taken advice from Kajal. I see it in your eyes, in your skin, it pours from your yellowing complexion like the pus of an infection, the poisons he has already managed to pollute and warp your brain…by this method, he ensures that he can distract people and protect them from their problems long enough to turn their gazes at him and worship him in all he stands for…if you do not see the power and greed inherent in him, much like his father, then I cannot advise any further.”

She pulled the door open, intent on leaving, when she heard a sheepish noise from her father that stopped her in her tracks.

“You…you aren’t giving him enough credit…we need to be believing the best in people now, not being suspicious of everything good that seems to be coming our way…”

“He has not earned credit. Or respect. An age old principal that I think you two have been so quick to forget,” she answered, before taking her escape, shutting the door behind her softly as she could manage.

IXIXIXIXIXIXIXIXIX

It had been a bad habit of Leopoldine’s to crack her knuckles before practicing piano, but for some reason it had, historically, put her in the zone. Not one to break tradition within herself, she stretched out and cracked them, before placing them expertly on the keys, like old hat. She wracked through her brain’s catalogue of her favorite warm up songs, and felt exactly which one she would be in the mood for. She moved her position to match the chords, and started playing, a tune that felt like flowing water to her. No resistance. Only allowance, calm.

Her fingers danced up and down the keys of the old piano effortlessly, perfectly in tune, never once missing a beat or a note. The classical tune was certainly not an easy one to play, but as usual, Lea paid respect to the song in both perfect technique and feeling.

It was her only time away from the horrors that had plagued her waking life since Garnet’s decision to close the kingdom’s borders. She dug into the keys and swayed back and forth, eyes secured shut in trance, as if she would never get to play the beloved instrument again. 

Unbeknownst to her, the queen regent stood watching, bemused, from the center balcony of the Grand Theater. She had snuck in unnoticed, but it wasn’t Lea’s fault for not noticing she was being spied upon. Even as a girl, she always had a penchant for slipping past barriers and guards. She drummed her fingers on the banister as she tried to follow along with her own sub-par piano skills, and found she could not keep up. Once the music let up, she paused before bringing her hands to a slow clap, jarring Lea out of her trance. The younger woman scanned near the ceiling, first shock, then anger overcoming her features. 

“Une barque sur l'océan…Ravel. I must say, I am impressed that you have such an obscure, yet difficult tune in your repertoire.”

Lea snarled at her, placing her hands back on the keys. She focused on the lacquer of the piano, wishing nothing more than for her to go away. 

“You haven’t yet heard me play Liszt’s Transcendental Etudes in its entirety…” Lea mumbled, the thought of walking right out of the theater a great temptation to her. “Why are you here? I’m sure you currently have business to attend to with the queen.”

“And I should have business with you, save for the fact that you refuse to see me,” Eiko shouted down, Lea already knowing of the grin on the older woman’s face.

“Well, may I now request that you leave here? I am about to practice for Queen Garnet’s last international concert before we…close our borders. Do you mind? I cannot have distraction.”

Eiko cast float on herself and glided down from the balcony to the walkway. Lea watched her descend gracefully until her feet hit the stage with a soft pat. Lea rolled her eyes and began to close the lid on the keys.

“I suppose I will have to practice another time—

“No, you will stay right here and listen! We must put our grievances behind us if we will ever solve this problem, yes?” Eiko insisted as she grabbed her right hand, Lea recoiling in shock.

“Excuse—me!” Lea shrieked, but Eiko did not relent.

“No, listen. Your thoughts on Kajal, have they changed at all?” Eiko asked, eyes now burdened with the grand nag of seriousness. Lea could tell it was something that really bothered her.

“I…I do not know what to think of him,” Lea admitted, averting her gaze. “He, like yourself, loves to sneak around and listen to me play while I am unsuspecting. But, the king and queen seem to trust him.”

“And I would only do so if he makes nice on his promise, but he hasn’t delivered quite yet,” Eiko admitted, letting go of the younger girl’s hand. “What am I to do but seek counsel from the cleverest person in Alexandria?”

Lea couldn’t help from rolling her eyes again. She pushed her stool outwards and stood up, trying to make a quick exit backstage.

“You expect me to just let you go, without speaking??” Eiko questioned as she tailed her, incredulous. “What happened between us…it was—

“Nothing?” Lea finished, flipping around and cocking an eyebrow. “Yes, I caught that. Now please…let me go.”

Eiko tried to grab after the cape storm that followed the young woman, but her attempts were futile. She was unusually agile for someone of her frame.

“Now, Lea! Don’t be such a sourpuss!”

“It’s Lady Steiner to you, if you could be so kind! I don’t know what you want me to say to you,” Lea defended, finally exiting the stage door into the back hallway of the theater, her heavy steps echoing. 

“I want you to help me find out what this Kajal is really after!” Eiko exclaimed, desperately grasping at Lea’s arm to get her to listen. Lea caught her mid grab, and began to twist her wrist, baring into her horrified gaze.

“Get your boundaries in check. I am not one to use your physical force on. I’m sure you’re smart enough to figure it out yourself, Your Majesty. Now please…stop following me.”

“No!” Eiko insisted, wriggling away from the young girl’s grip. “I will not relent! I need your researching skills to figure out some history pertaining to this man…”

“And what do I look like…some super sleuth? Go hire a detective.”

“I already have. Nothing has come up in the search…” Eiko admitted, scratching her head in confusion. “In fact, there’s no background on him at all. It was wiped clean. He’s a man that lives off the grid.”

Lea’s lip twitched as she looked at the ground, a hard look of concern now shrouding her features.

“Well…if he is who he says he is, and born in the right circumstances…then he should have full records of his birth and life available…”

“I even searched his proclaimed birth name. Still nobody that remotely fits the profile!” Eiko insisted, pulling some papers out of her blouse, waving them in her face. Lea grabbed the papers harshly from her and scanned them, before returning focus, confusion evident. 

“You don’t think that he paid to have his record cleared? Perhaps he was never registered as a baby…” Lea reasoned, pacing, her hand absent-mindedly stroking her chin. “And besides, this wouldn’t hold up in court, really…and it does nothing to carve out his intentions. Any child of Kuja would want to be kept anonymous for a multitude of reasons. Not the least of those being a devilish agenda or ambition.”

“He could have just kept his birth name and rode out his life as it were…hid his tail and nobody would have had to know,” Eiko said through gritted teeth. “I just find it strange that for someone with nothing at all to hide…there’s no basic birth record.”

“Well, I insist,” Lea said, handing it back to her forcefully and continuing her walk down the hall, “that it would not hold up in court. So it was a useless endeavor to gain this information in the first place.”

Lea quickened her pace still, but Eiko was about 4 inches taller so it wasn’t hard for her to keep up. 

“You’re not understanding what I’m getting at!! I don’t want to convict him in a court of law—that ship has already sailed. I want to catch him in his tracks before it is too late!” Eiko insisted, waving her hands empathically.

“And how do you propose we do that, hm?”

“We do our research! Some spying around! Find out what he’s after then catch him in the act!”

Lea whirred around again, this time very visibly angry.

“And who really has time for that?! Are you going to hire another investigation team?”

“No! You and I are going to put our minds together and scope this guy out! I just know he’s hiding something that we can uncover!”

Lea remained utterly unconvinced. Eiko sighed and bit her lip, jitters overhauling her body. She paced around the hallway.

“Hear me out, I say! I can stay in Alexandria castle as long as I’d like…after all, I am Queen Regent of Lindblum, and as you well know, can do whatever it is I well please. My job will be that of spy…and yours, of sleuth.”

She turned to gauge Lea’s reaction, who merely blinked.

“You’re familiar with the lay of the library, are you not?”

“Quite,” Lea replied, tone still riddled with skepticism.

“Good, yes. Then you will be able to find some texts on both Gazian Monks and the people of Terra—since those texts now exist?”

“Y-Yes…but I’m not sure we’d be able to find much information on the latter. My father and the others did not save any books from the planet, and so we are limited to those that were left on The Invincible.”

“And how many do you suspect were left?” The queen regent asked eagerly, moving close to the young Steiner woman, studying her face and its many lovely intricacies. She couldn’t help it—she’d been dying to get close to her since they day they kissed. Lea got lost in the moment as well. Once she realized how long she had been staring into Eiko’s sapphire blues, she shook her head and stepped away, enforcing her boundaries once more.

“Um…perhaps…50?” 

“More than enough!” Eiko confirmed, clapping her hands together in joy. “I swear to you, we can do this, with just a little research…”

“You never told me what it is I am to research!” Lea combatted, placing her hands on her hips.

“Oh! Yes, we will be diving into the specific histories of both cultures…it may give us clues as to what he’s after…because really, what context…or view on the world, does he have if he was raised in Esto Gaza?”

Lea thought on these words for a moment. “It would certainly have to be a pious one…though monks are known to be quite worldly from all the reading they do…”

Eiko shook her finger. “Yes! However, too much reading and not enough living, plus isolation…could be a concoction for grave danger from any individual. Just ask my grandpa. The man went quite insane before his death.”

Lea felt no choice but to concur. She signaled that she agreed, but still had more questions.

“I may be limited on time here, as we are a very kingdom busy right now …but there is one more thing I must ask you…why not enlist the help of Crystal? She is a known bookworm and might be more suspicious of Kajal than even I.”

Eiko’s expression was alight with humor. “You think I would involve someone so close to the queen? As angry as she may be, she’s still the princess. She would be best not involved in this one, and kept safe at that.”

Lea squeezed her eyes shut, and pursed her lips.

“Where…do I even begin?”

“Start with the books from the invincible. They may give you some insight into what he may be after, if it is truly Gaian, Terran…or simply Genome related.”

“But what are the chances of that?’ Lea asked, exasperated. “I feel like we are going in blind.”

Eiko smirked, then shimmied into Lea’s personal space once more.

“I think you’ll be surprised at what you’ll uncover.”

She gave the younger woman a sultry look up and down her body before prancing, head held high, down the hallway.

“W-Wait! You said you will play spy. Will you be frequenting the kingdom more often?!” Lea asked in hesitancy, voice shaking, afraid of the answer. Eiko turned around dramatically and winked at her.

“I will come and go as I please.”

With that, she exited the theater. Lea rolled her eyes and decided to go back to the stage to practice her craft. She knew she was going to need its healing powers after a conversation with the queen regent.

IXIXIXIXIXIXIXIXIX

“WELCOME TO OUR 74TH ANNUAL FESITVAL OF THE HUNT!!!”

The crowds for the festival had become massive in recent years. People traveled far and wide just to witness the slaughter of vicious monsters, providing them an outlet for all their pent up frustrations with the world. Once the introductions began, they had always run rampant with screaming and whistling until every single one of their voices gave out.

It was Lilia’s favorite day of the year.

The rules varied a bit from previous years; nowadays everyone began in the Business District, followed by the Industrial and Theater Industrial Districts. It granted a more competitive edge to the game, where people were slighting each other, and even fighting each other, for game. Once every monster was slain in one district, they all race to the next. Prizes ranged from gil to special equipment and armor.

The general’s daughter was first in line, as reigning champ from the previous year. In honor of the hunt, she donned an entirely different uniform, an outfit that one could hardly call a uniform at all. She dressed herself in a black, loose-fitting halter top that showcased her abs and arms, tight pants, sleek black boots, simple black gloves with the fingers cut out, and a ribbon-tied choker to adorn her neck. She was free of her gauntlets and plates. It was all about agility with the hunt.

Of course, with a sword in her hand she was tall enough and muscular enough to appear menacing, but her choice of style led some of the men beside her to snigger at her. In turn, she sized up the competition, scoffing once she realized that almost all of them were losers, shorter than her with rusty swords, daggers, most of them dirty with yellowing teeth, some well known bounty hunters with their reputations on the line. It was frowned upon for anyone from the Alexandrian army to participate in such a rough, un-chivalrous event, but Lilia didn’t care. She couldn’t resist a good fight, and loved winning.

Shoving the small amount of insecurity she had aside, she contorted her body so she could see farther down the lineup. At the opposite end, Zerrick, Fredryck and Bentley stood waiting, as they do every year, but one new figure struck an electrical zip of worry through her chest and down her gut.

Kajal had decided to participate this year. He was waiting on his intro, hands behind his back, unmoving, serene as anyone in the line. Lilia snarled in his direction, and turned her attention back to herself. She had tried to avoid any extra conflict at the castle (her mother’s strict orders), so she went nowhere near him in fear that she would be yearning to pick a fight. Like many, she was hard pressed to trust him. 

Trying to shake off his presence, her ears perked up as she heard the microphone static, and began warming the soles of her feet up on the cobblestone, as mimicking a racehorse. 

“AAAAAND FIRST UP,” the announcer shouted through a magic microphone, waving to a hoard of giggling ladies, “OUR REIGNING CHAMP OF LAST YEAR’S EVENT. THE INFAMOUS, THE BEAUTIFUL,THE DEADLY…LILIA STEINER!!”

Lilia stepped forward and shook both her free hand and sword in the air, giving a healthy vocal roar towards her competition for extra intimidation.

Watching from the curved bridge above were her parents, the royal family, Lea, Freya, Fratley, Claudia and the old Tantalus crew. Zidane had received complementary sake to sip on during the hunt, and Beatrix, clinging tightly onto the railing in nervousness, reached over with a “pardon me” and took a wild swig.

“Whoa!! Beatrix, what’s the matter with you? You never drink, let alone out of someone else’s cup!” Zidane announced, confused at the random occurrence. 

Baku took a few large gulps from his mug of beer.

“It’s about time these Alexandrian soldiers let loose for once. GWAHAHAHA!!” 

Blank and Ruby exchanged glances sheepishly, and Marcus proceeded to facepalm. 

The general shook her head, bouncy silver curls flying wildly.

“She…she doesn’t have any armor on. Not a layer of it. Should she be ambushed or even killed at any moment by any…I don’t know, rabid monster or begrudged person, how are we to go on, then?” she explained, clinging tighter to the railing and looking to Steiner for some support. She knew well she wasn’t going to get any. There he stood, proud as punch, looking down upon the glorious being that was his daughter.

“Do not fret, Trixie! Look on—how she intimidates them!” he pointed out, hands balled into proud, waving fists. The general glared at him for calling her that in public. He shook off the slip of tongue with his gestures. “She’s simply a masterpiece…built tall and strong for combat! Of course she should show the world what she’s got. It’s in her blood!”

“Yes, darling, but look at her closely, now. Exposed skin everywhere! For a man that is so unmistakably fitted with his own armor, you’d think you would be a tad worried!” Beatrix insisted, tempted to leave the bridge altogether and hide in the castle until the event was over. “Even if she doesn’t die, she could risk magic-resistant infection, or even worse, she could fall into another delirium!”

“Beatrix,” Garnet reassured gently, placing her hand on the woman’s shoulder, “I think Lilia can handle herself at this time. It is clear to me that she has no match in this game, so there’s no real risk for any of that. And the beasts? Easy for her.”

The two women looked lovingly at her each other, and Garnet did her best to convey her assured nature to the hurting woman.

“I know it’s hard seeing her out there, doing some risky things. But that’s just who she is in the world. And she’s one lucky girl, too, remember that!”

Zidane nodded and threw an arm around his wife.

“Dagger’s right. Lilia’s been through far more dangerous things, and while she’s been down on her luck, too! And, to be fair,” He sized up the young Steiner girl, and shrugged, “I think she looks pretty darn lucky to me!”

None of these words comforted the general. She signed, shook her head, and laid her arms down at her side. 

“Well if I sense even the slightest bit of an unsavory situation, I’m intervening.”

She patted the Save the Queen at her side, confident that even in her old age she could take on anyone or anything in the game. Steiner put his arm around her and stroked her cheek affectionately. 

“As will I. I would never stand by to watch any true danger befall her.”

“You encouraging her to behave in this way is letting danger befall her. But please, you need not heed my counsel...” Beatrix muttered, wishing she had never let Lilia become a solider at all, exasperated that it wasn’t so easy to discharge her.

Lea glanced up from one of the Terran books she was struggling to translate, and tried to comfort her mother as the others did, but was more amused at her worries than anything. She knew Lilia to be far more capable than they often gave her credit for.

“Mother, if worst comes to worst, I’ll just start playing a song so everyone falls asleep. The end.” She secretly wondered if Eiko was watching from somewhere more private and luxurious. 

“Ah, but perhaps she should worry!” Freya joked, nudging Fratley, who remained stoic as ever. “Our Frederyck has had some of the very best training in the land!”

“Don’t even joke about that, sugar! I don’t wanna be around the day Lilia finds out she loses in….anything, really…” Ruby contemplated, scratching her head. She turned to Blank and whispered in his ear. “Maybe we shoulda stayed home, darlin’. I think Sapphy is mighty bored…”

Sapphira’s ears perked up in response. She was busy licking an ice cream cone that Marcus bought her. “Mom!! I’m not bored! I wanna watch Bentley fight!”

Cinna, who was standing next to Lea in quiet, glanced over her shoulder at what she was parsing out. “Say Lea, whatcha reading there? I can’t even make out the words…what language is that?”

Offended at his nosiness, she slammed the book shut.

“It’s nothing. Just brushing up on more ancient music, written in runes.”

Curiously, Zidane turned his head to take a look at the cover. He recoiled, realizing he could read the text. He opened his mouth to ask her why, when they announced Zerrick as a competitor. He turned his attention back to his son, but stored the question in his mind for later.

“YEAH, ZAZ!! YOU GO BEAT ‘EM ALL! SWIPE ‘EM SO FAST, THEY WONT KNOW WHAT HIM ‘EM!!”

He looked back at Lea once more, thinking that maybe he’d just imagined what he’d saw, and noticed that Lea had disappeared, along with the book.

“Hey! Where did Lea go?” He asked Claudia, who wasn’t paying attention.

Claudia was beaming at Zerrick when asked. Without much thought, she said, “Oh! Well, I don’t know. She must’ve wandered off to get a better view or something.”

“Nah, she doesn’t give a rat’s ass about any of this stuff…” 

He looked over both his shoulders. When he couldn’t immediately find her, he gave up, assuming she was capable of protecting herself. He knew that if Crystal noticed she was gone, she would get nervous. Lea was her rock.

Crystal seemed to be lost in her own world. While she always enjoyed the festival of the hunt, this year she just couldn’t seem to focus on it. She was completely zoned out, her consciousness just looming above lucid, untouched in her own wild daydreams. But they weren’t ones that pleasured her senses with joy and fantasy. They were riddled with anxieties and great perils. The presence of Kajal in her life totally threw her off balance, her horn burned and ached all day, and living through her condition had been nothing short of a nightmare. She could only escape in sleep, and even that was unsure.

The Queen noticed her daughter’s glum demeanor, and fret for her, knowing exactly how she was feeling. She tried to put an arm around the girl to comfort her in all her confusion and anger, but she refused to be touched at all.

“Come now. Won’t you at least enjoy the show, dear?”

Crystal shook her head. “I…can’t. I don’t understand how you and father can just sit around and act like nothing is about to happen, as we stand here on this bridge, knights all around us like we’re paranoid someone may try and assassinate us at any time, and you know why! It’s because what you’re doing is totally wrong!”

Garnet looked around, noticing all the soldiers present, including Diana and Lexa, both standing sternly by her side. They were listening in. 

“Please, can we discuss this after?”

“There’s never a good time to discuss it anymore,” the princess quipped.

No more time remained for them to squabble, as the final horns sounded for each fighter to get in their position.

“CONTESTANTS…ON YOUR MARK…GET SET…GO!!!!”

The gongs were struck, and the contestants immediately took off, dashing toward the large pen that had monsters flooding out of it. Lilia, of course being faster than every other contestant, got to the first monster, a Zaghnol. It swung at her furiously, mindlessly, while she leaped into the air, wasting no time piercing into its brains with her broadsword. Blood spattered on her arms and abs, and she jumped out of the way just in time for the beast to fall before her feet. The crowd cheered for her, but she wasted no time in paying them mind; she needed to remain in the lead.

Eiko had been watching from some obscure balcony in one of her castle towers that overlooked the Business District. She didn’t much enjoy making her presence known to the common people unless it was of utter importance, and preferred the safety of her private spaces in such intense political climates. She had to break it to Garnet: she was brave in numerous ways in which she herself, was not.

She sipped her blood red wine, amused at the meaningless slaughter of the hunt. She jumped when she suddenly heard footsteps behind her. Expecting that it was one of her guards bringing her requested next glass, she turned around with her hand outstretched, only to find it was grabbed and tugged behind her.

“What in the world?!”

Lea stood behind her, wasting no time in her demands, and pressed and irresistible kiss to the queen regent’s lips. Their plump, fleshy bits mashed around each other’s; hotly, intensely, breath and saliva mingling, tongues courting. Eiko pulled the woman’s face in hard, and she responded in kind by grabbing her hips and digging her nails in through the fabric.

She could no longer resist the urge…

The young warrior kicked a competing man to the side in order to take his kill from him. The rabid bird circled her head; then dived. Lilia caught it in the neck and brought it death. She looked over her shoulder at that moment to see Kajal standing there, fireball floating gently above his hand, darkened by his sneer.

It was too easy to say yes…

It was a sensation she had never felt before, but dreamed, longed to experience. Cold digits shocked her from the warmth of her trance, livening her response to the conflicting sensations…warm and cool, wet and dry. After moments of teasing, the queen regent slipped inside her pants.

They’ll take you for everything you are…then throw you away.

She had to have the upper hand. There were no ifs, ands, and or buts. She drop-kicked a man in the gut, and spun around to slay the rabbit-type beast that had flung itself her way. She caught a glimpse of Kajal burning a wolf alive. His fire shimmered like a coveted artifact. The dog screamed in agony.

We don’t know the truth until it’s too late…

Lea turned Eiko around, slammed her against the balcony bars. Acutely, she wondered if someone, somewhere, was watching them. She was never one for scandal, but was certainly one for reciprocation. She journeyed her way into Eiko’s underclothes, and combed her fingers through bright purple hair, feeling the slight wetness present upon entrance. She teased her outer folds and glided along them, softly, but with pressure. Eiko threw her head back in eager ecstasy, Lea kissing the crook of her neck sweetly in response. Their breathing grew heavier. She begged for penetration, and Lea obliged her with one long, slow motion. They moved in tandem together as Lea made love to her with novice, yet sincere fingers, using the bottom side of her palm to pleasure Eiko’s more sensitive bits. The older woman began to moan, and eventually, squeal loudly into the creeping dusk.

And I have failed my people.

She found herself in Theater District. She performed a backflip, and twirled through the air like the gymnast she was, her sword meeting with another monster as she hit the ground. She felt her pulse in every pressure point on her body. Her face was matted with sweat, pulsating on the verge of heatstroke, and she was beginning to feel fatigued. She made a point to look around for Kajal, but he was nowhere to be found. Instead, she saw Frederyck make two kills in one swing of his lance. Confused at how he could both register two enemies at once and make a kill so fast, she checked the large digital clock and scoreboard that projected into the sky from the new Invincible that hovered over the city. She had merely minutes left, and she was only in the lead by one kill, Fredryck trailing her. In a moment of panic, she searched the perimeter for just one more monster, any monster that she could kill to secure her win.

There was only a minute left.

Right then, she spotted it. Another Zaghnol, charging toward her, hooves pattering against the cobblestones with such angry force that the warrior could have sworn she’d seen smoke come out of its nose. She and Fredryck’s heads snapped towards each other, both having their eyes on the prize. The score was even, as he had just slayed the other remaining monster.

“So my father trained you well, eh?” Lilia taunted, trying to get him to lose focus.

“Hardly. The training I received in Burmecia has far superseded your father’s methods,” the dragoon commented, eyes now on the monster.

“I doubt that. Get fucked, rat,” Lilia spat cruelly before she charged toward the beast, hand on the hilt, ready to draw at the perfect moment. She noticed Fredryck keeping speed with her, and realized that the winner of the hunt was going to be whoever ran the fastest. 

She was so sure she was going to win at that moment that she smiled, and began to lift her sword out of its sheath gleefully…

Right before she drew, the Zaghnol went up in flames before her very eyes. She skid in her tracks and came to a halt. The beast screeched while it burned alive. Horrified, she looked over at Fredryck, who appeared just as confused as she was. 

Standing beside the monster was Kajal, basking in the glory of his kill. The horns sounded for the end of the hunt, and Lilia whipped around to look at the scoreboard. She and Fredryck were still tied.

“What is the meaning of this?!” Lilia demanded as she stepped forward, waving her left fist in the air. Kajal creeped up behind her, and dared put a hand on her shoulder, causing her to flinch, as she hate being touched. 

“I apologize my dear, I couldn’t resist those extra points…”

She glared at him, incredulous. She whipped her head back toward the leaderboard, and saw the points add to Kajal’s name, but he was still only in second place.

“We’re…tied for first…” Lilia spoke, agitated. Fredryck gave her no indication of caring, and waited for the results of how the judges would decide on the winner. Both stood there, still as statues, listening intently for the voice of the announcer.

“…THE JUDGES HAVE DECIDED TO BREAK THE TIE BASED ON MERIT…WHILE LILIA STEINER DISPLAYED UNPARALLELED SKILL AND SPEED, WE ARE ANNOUNCING OUR WINNER AS FREDRYCK FRATLEY FOR HIS NUMBER OF KILLS AND GREAT PERSISTENCE AGAINST THE TOUGHEST BEASTS! CONGRATS TO FREDRYCK! YOU CAN CLAIM YOUR PRIZE AT ANY TIME IN THE BUSINESS DISTRICT!!!”

Frederyck began high-jumping across the space in his joy. Lilia remained mortified for a moment, before throwing her sword onto the ground and demanding answers.

“What?! That’s…that is impossible!! Nobody worked the field out there like I did! NOBODY!!”

She stomped away to the tram to return to the business district to plead her case. Fredryck noticed her attitude immediately, and landed to scold her.

“You’re a sore loser and a brat, Lilia! GROW UP.”

Paying him no mind, she fled into the station. Kajal creeped up and stood next to him, shaking his head at the hot-headed young girl.

“That one…she’ll always be the problem child, won’t she?”

IXIXIXIXIXIXIXIXIX

The Annual Alexandrian Ball put everyone out into a tizzy.

It was nothing short of a frenzy for the royals and nobles, the latent sounds of whispers penetrating with every echo down hallways, love letters sent, the curling of hair and powdering of faces, the inquiries of dress, the spray of the finest perfume.

It wasn’t such fun for the knights or guards. Lilia was sent the assignment merely days before, and she felt the stand-and-guard aspect of knighthood was for sissies. Nevertheless, she stood guard over Garnet’s left shoulder on the balcony of the ballroom, hand over her hip in simple virulent sass, not dissimilar to her mother’s fashion.

Her mother and father were allowed, and even required by the queen, to attend. But they loved it. It was the one day out of the year where they felt they could get loose and have some fun. It’s not that they put down their swords (they would never dare), but every year they went just as hard as everyone else in the kingdom; extravagant dresses, wild jewelry, and Beatrix even let herself have a few glasses of red wine while Steiner looked on worriedly, voluntarily sober.

Lilia peered down upon them entering the ballroom, arm in arm, eliciting an applause from current company. Lea, who elegantly donned a black dress with lace sleeves, neck accented by an onyx choker and her simple straight black hair, turned around, glass of Champagne in hand. She curtseyed to them.

Both girls had to admit that their mother looked nothing short of extravagantly beautiful. Her silvering chestnut curls were left down as always, but the front pieces of her hair were tied back with an elegant diamond clip. This year’s dress may have been her best ever. Silky red, mermaid-cut, almost like a nightgown, with a slit down the side and plenty of cleavage on display. She accented the dress with white gloves and glass heels. Steiner gazed over her body with adoration, and spun her around so the room could witness every inch of her beauty, never fading even in middle age. 

Steiner appeared more or less average. He simply bothered to put on armor of higher grade (synthesized from Hades many years ago) and took off his cap, showing his own head of thick, salt and pepper hair. Beatrix made some lapel of a crease in his armor, and it held three small, red roses. Lea approached them with approving expression.

“I think you two have cleaned up nicely this evening,” she noted with sarcastic understatement, watching the nobles approach the two to chat. She was ready for any question they were to throw at her parents, and would fervently defend them at all costs.

Lilia sighed and turned her head to the other side of the ballroom below. Fredryck and Crystal had snuck away from the crowds, the princess needing the time away from Bentley, who was already too drunk to notice that she had left. The knight guessed that Crystal was getting some of her last words in before the Burmecian was sent home for good. 

She smiled at the thought. The sight of him made her ill. Who did he think he was, walking around like he owned the place, mocking her in his victory? It seemed, to her, everyone was mocking her nowadays.

Just as she stewed in this notion, she caught sight of Kajal below, quarantined to a corner near Beatrix and Steiner, watching the crowd. He must have felt her eyes on him, as he looked up with a ready grin, one which Lilia rebuffed in her hatred of him. She had a weird feeling that tonight was the night he was going to try and say something to her…

Out of nowhere, Eiko appeared behind her, and placed a hand on her shoulder.

“Geez! Why is everyone touching me lately?!” Lilia asked, moving to the side to try and shrug off her hand. The queen regent rolled her eyes.

“Please, Lilia, calm down. I wanted to see how you were holding up here, and if you needed anything from me.”

Lilia’s face contorted, sour. “Um…no, I think I’ll be ok, thanks…”

Eiko shrugged. “Just making sure, dear.” She sauntered over to the front of the balcony and exchanged long winded pleasantries with Garnet before exposing herself to the crowd.

She wore a dress as purple as her hair, encrusted with thousands of amethysts over every inch. She raised both hands in the air, anticipating applause, which duly came. Lea was interrupted from conversation by the clapping and turned to see, what she thought, was the most beautiful woman on Gaia.

Shortly after the shock, she realized who it was. Her face paled, and she quickly turned back to her parents. Her father was oblivious as usual, but Beatrix noticed how her daughter became sallower by the seconds. She didn’t ask what was wrong, because her mother’s intuition already told her everything she needed to know.

“Lea, darling, do not look back behind you…” Beatrix said quietly, looking down at the floor and back up to the balcony with swift eyes. Lea, of course, did not heed her warning and took another glance.

Standing next to her was her absentee husband, Douglas Carrey, regent of Lindblum. Together they stood, his hand snugly on her hip, both smiling and waving at the wild crowd below. He was a very tall man, about as tall as her own father, and he towered over the woman. He was a very amiable looking man, with medium brown hair and light brown eyes. He had a lot of friends, and came from a very wealthy Lindblumese family. Eiko claimed he was always on public relations trips, to keep Lindblum the world’s #1 nation, and it wasn’t so hard to believe. Lea lasered in on his pearly whites, and it felt like a spear had skewered her in the stomach. Eiko didn’t even look her way, and was purposefully ignoring her.

Beatrix had seen it coming. Her daughter excused herself outside just as the music began, and it was the cue for Zidane, Garnet, Eiko and Douglas to come and dance with the other royals. They left their throne behind, and got into position for the traditional Alexandrian Waltz. She and Steiner had done the same, and commenced their practiced waltz. Crystal danced with Bentley, and Zerrick with Claudia.

Lilia almost envied them, dearly missing Alexandrian dance more than she ever thought she would. She crossed her arms and sighed, but caught glimpse of Kajal walking up the grand staircase before her. Her nervousness permeated the surface, and her heart began to pound.

“W-What…do you want?” Lilia asked, trying very hard to keep her cool.

“I’m…simply…bored! I need to talk to someone interesting in this room full of…well…wet blankets…”

Lilia scoffed. “And what exactly makes you think I’m interesting?”

Kajal shrugged, and propped himself against a wall opposite her. 

“I can just tell. You don’t allow others to think for you…or tell you what to do, or tell you how to behave…it’s quite admirable, I think.”

“Well, you’re wrong. Because look at me—here I am!” She threw her hands up in a mocking way. “Doing what I’m told, yeah?”

“Yes, but at the same time, it’s what you want. You want to be here, you want to be a knight.”

Lilia was quiet for a few minutes, but felt compelled to speak to him, somehow.

“But it’s not really what I’ve always had in mind when I wanted to become one. I’d see my mother and father fight nobly, yet so strongly and with such precision. They were such an inspiration to me…”

Kajal thought on her words, his dull, pale complexion shining golden in the light. He mused on the dancing people below.

“That’s the bulk of their life. Standing and guarding. Adulthood is not all fun and games, you know.”

“I live for the battlefield…” Lilia sighed.

“But there’s a downside to every job, my dear,” Kajal said, and Lilia was listening most intently. “Have you ever thought that maybe…this isn’t quite…the path for you?”

Lilia shook her head violently. “No! Being The General, like mother, is all I’ve ever wanted!!”

Kajal made it clear of his skepticism, and pushed himself off the wall. He leaned into her. “You only think you want it because that’s all you’ve ever known.”

This was the first time anyone had ever questioned Lilia’s motives for wanting to become a knight.

“Shut up. You have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Don’t I?” Kajal asked, seemingly earnest. “I lived my life for a long time, thinking I wanted one thing…but it was really that I wanted something else. What is it that so binds you to…battle…or dare I say it, death?”

The young warrior pouted, her mouth pressing evermore south. But she couldn’t find the answer. Was it really that she enjoyed killing people?

“I…I…suppose…” Lilia started, unsure of herself for the first time in a while. “I…think I…love the adrenaline rush.”

“Ah, yes, an honest answer,” Kajal appeased her, bowing to her. “But…what happens when this gets old, and the adrenaline turns into anxiety? Anxiety will lead to indecision, doubt…and even…hatred, if you will.”

“It will never get old! It didn’t for my parents!!” she was quick to rationalize, fist held to her chest.

“But look! Your parents now!” Kajal insisted, getting close to Lilia and pointing them out. “They are happy now, no? Happier than they usually are.”

The young knight looked down, watching her dad follow her mother around the ballroom. She was laughing, perhaps a bit drunk on wine, bit when did she ever really laugh? And he was holding this wide grin, something he rarely ever did. He was always nervous when she drank, but somehow he always learned to have a good time at the ball.

“It’s because they are free. Being an Alexandrian soldier…or the Captain of the Knights of Pluto…or even being the general. It’s a life of pure servitude, and very little action, or fun.”

Lilia finally stared into his appalling white face, something she had resisted before. She noticed it was a strangely hairy face, as if covered in an abundance of peach fuzz. She noticed his eyes, alight with blue, same as the Gaian moon. His lips were pallad, but also so sure when they spoke. She looked down at her hands, flexing them. They didn’t seem real to her at all.

“But..they must be happy. Somehow. Else they wouldn’t have stayed here.”

He pointed at them again. “They’re happy because they have each other. See how they pull together energetically, like magnets? They’re no doubt soulmates. And for that, they trudge through their tragic lives together, leaning on one another, supporting one another. The classic tale of yin and yang. It also helps that they actually care about the queen, enough to want to protect her, as parents might.”

He turned back to look at her, and smiled sweetly.

“And they have you girls. They feel that they truly live to make sure you two are happy. They are good parents, and you’re lucky for that.”

Lilia knew he had an ulterior motive to his sentimental speech. 

“But…what? Are you psychic or something? What’s your reason in telling me this?”

Kajal shrugged, ignoring a good majority of her questioning. “Nothing. You’re just not set up in the same way…that is, unless you’re already in love with one of these repulsive Pluto Knights.”

“NO!!” Lilia was quick to defend, making a gagging motion with her pointer finger. “No way…but I do care about Princess Crystal.”

“And you are allowed,” Kajal reasoned, abruptly. “But do you really want to live your entire life serving her? And potentially die for her?”

She didn’t know how to answer that question. Her entire reason for wanting to be a knight was flipped on its head, and it only took questioning from some stranger for her to see it. 

“…Why don’t we get out of here…the queen and king won’t notice, they are dancing,” he suggested, pointing to the exit. She read his face again. It held an alluring look about it, still glowing from the light of the gigantic chandelier.

“You know that I can’t,” Lilia explained, unsheathing her sword and pointing it to the ground. “I’ve got to stay and protect the space, else I face demotion. And I don’t doubt for one second my mother would demote me, too.”

Kajal smirked in response, snapping his fingers before she even finished her sentence. At once, everyone in the room stopped. The music, the dancing, the laughing. Lilia looked incredulously down below.

“H-How did you…?”

“I can cast “stop” on multiple targets, you know. Not just one at a time. I’m not just a regular black mage…I’m also a highly skilled time mage.”

“A…time mage?” she asked, confused now by all these new concepts that were flooding her mind. “But…how long—

“They’ll be stopped for 30 minutes natural time, but to them it’ll feel like they never stopped dancing at all. If we leave the space, however, the spell will break. So we must stay in the ballroom.”

He stretched out his hand in an offering of his time. Lilia smiled brightly, and took it, curious of how she could possibly pick this man’s brain.

IXIXIXIXIXIXIXIXIX

Lea was determined to not go back to the ball. She didn’t care of the consequences—she needed something, anything, to quell the pain, and going back to that space would only exacerbate it.

She knew her mother was worried, but she also knew she trusted her, and gave her full adult autonomy. She didn’t really want anyone to chase after her. She wanted solitude. Or as much as she could get in her current situation.

She pried a lantern from a street vendor, knowing well that she would need it for the streets she was seeking out. She continued down the main drag, and turned down Cherry Way, an alley notorious for being Alexandria’s own red light district. Though it was only a fraction of Lindblum’s, it still held its reputation for being the hub of all of the city’s late night, latent and lascivious pleasures.

She focused only on the sound of her feet hitting the stones, not where she was going. She never imagined she’d be desperate enough to resort to what she was going to do, but the beast was finally awoken in her, and it was famished from being deprived for so long. She finally looked up to see the sign she was looking for. There it hung, pathetic and dingy, written out:

The Chariot on Cherry.

“The Chariot…” Lea breathed to herself, half ashamed, half amused. She shook her head, and focused on the writing once more. She finally told herself to go in, to see for herself what it was truly like, to be at Alexandria’s most famed and prolific whore-house.

What she was looking for, she was not sure she’d find. Certainly, the locale read of stinky, slimy old middle class men, and the occasional weathered gentleman, who paid for only the best whores. She wanted someone older, experienced, someone who could guide her through her relatively unexcavated pleasure. She was ready and willing to pay, if only for the right girl…

She scoped the club hard, seeing mostly young girls, probably Lilia’s age, sitting on the laps of much older gentlemen, chatting them up, flirtation and demand in their eyes. They were, perhaps, kissing them, or performing fellatio, or letting them have their way, right on the open floor. The sight at first disgusted Lea, until she realized she was no better than these men who appeared to be taking advantage of such young women. She needed to find one, any older one, who was not currently occupied by a man…

And then she appeared. She slipped out of a beaded curtain in some room across the way. She seemed to know that Lea was looking for something. She wore a mask over her eyes, pasties over her nipples, and a bejeweled thong. She smiled and beckoned Lea over. There was no choice but to oblige her, transfixed by her confident, seductive nature. Once inside the curtain, there was a small cloth couch and a plethora of multi-colored flames dancing around the ceiling. The room smelled suitable, like sandalwood and jasmine, and Lea noticed that the woman was burning essential oils. 

“Do you treat all your clients this well?”

She didn’t answer immediately, slowly walking over to the couch to recline. She crossed her right leg over the left, and splayed her arms over the frame of the couch.

“This is the only fair and just treatment of women. Those are the only clients I see.”

Lea laughed to herself, dropping her hands as a mean to drop her defenses.

“So what is tonight, some lesbian special?” Lea teased, motioning once again to the vibe, the décor.

The prostitute laughed. It was a hearty laugh, an experienced one. 

“I…strictly have women as clients. I have lived out my days here, and I call the shots for it, too.”

Lea wasn’t really thinking clearly. All she could see was a small dark space in between the woman’s inner thigh and the seam of her thong…she couldn’t help but imagine the muskiness, the wetness, the beauty that lay between those legs.

“You look familiar,” the woman noticed. “You are royal, yes?”

“Not quite…” Lea admitted, hands trembling. The woman only smiled and motioned for the younger woman to come near. She could hardly wait a moment longer, and quickly obeyed. Before long, they were rolling around on the couch, fighting for sexual dominance. Their kisses became so hard, so deep, and so violent, that Lea felt she could hardly breathe. But that wouldn’t stop her. She was in the throes of utter Sapphic bliss, and she couldn’t believe the amount of sheer pleasure she denied herself for so long. The sex worker grabbed the back of her neck hard, and used her other hand to begin unzipping Lea’s dress. The fire light above her shined rainbows, swirling deep and becoming an integral part of her visual delight. She closed her eyes and savored the vibe, focusing on the sensation of the woman biting her neck, and undressing her as slowly as desire would allow, feeling the chill of the night air on her chest.

She never wanted it to end. And it was only beginning.

But it stopped, and quickly. She felt the warm body being pulled off her, and her first instinct was to jolt up from her position, to cover her exposed bosom with her arms.

Standing above her was her mother, lamp in hand, having just thrown the prostitute to the side. Her expression read not of anger, but of grave solemnity. 

“What the fuck is going on here?!” the woman squealed. “Help! Help!”

“BE QUIET!” Beatrix demanded. “Lest you wish for a hurting!”

The woman huffed. “Well I oughta! Who do you think you are?”

Beatrix turned around in haste, and flipped her hair. The woman registered the eyepatch and knew immediately knew who she was dealing with.

“G-General B-Beatrix!!” she squealed. “Puh-Please…don’t hurt me!”

The general rolled her eyes and grabbed her daughter by the arm, straightening her up to help her get her dress back on. 

“Just be quiet and we will be on our way.”

She had her daughter dressed and walking out of the whore-house in less than a minute, and handed her a lantern.

“But…how did you think to find me here?!” Lea asked, a bit incredulous, a bit thankful, and very, very embarrassed.

“This isn’t my first turn around the block…” Beatrix said, eerily serious in tone. “A mother’s intuition hardly fails.”

The young woman sighed, shaking her head and trying to keep up with her mother, who was walking quickly towards the slums.

“Wait, wait…I don’t understand?”

“But I do. I understand your motives full well. You must know, however…the men that run the whore houses…they are the vilest, stingiest, and cruelest of men, and will sell off their best girl to the worst man in town for a mere 500 gil. That is not a life you want to know anything about.”

“Yes, but when you say you understand,” Lea started, growing more worried at the direction they were walking in. “You of course mean…that you…ehm…’like’…women too??”

The sound of the general’s laugher filled the air, and Lea felt some strange form of relief by it.

“Hardly. You miss the point, dear,” Beatrix said, rounding a corner. They were officially in the slums. “Come, you can walk faster, now.”

“Why on Gaia are we in these parts, mother?!” Lea hissed, noticing all the strange men that suddenly appeared out of the shadows.

“Are you afraid? I have my sword on me, and you can practically sing a song and turn it to magic. Don’t worry. You must see what I am about to show you.”

“I…don’t know why…”

But Lea had no more time to argue. They rounded their last dirty, dingy corner and the general pointed down to a drunken hiccupping man, slouched on the pole of a street lamp, giggling manically. He threw aside the empty beer bottle he held loosely in his hand, the sound of it shattering startling Lea. The drunkard looked up slowly, and tipped his grimy hat to Beatrix. 

“…Trixie, Trixie, Trixie…every night, you know that I hope you come and visit me! All my hoping and praying has paid off! Here you are!”  
He chuckled, weekly, and his head slumped to his chest. He gurgled. 

“Mother, who is this man?! And my goodness…how does he know you?!”

“I am about to be very plain with you, so listen,” Beatrix commanded, beckoning her closer. “Look at this man very closely. This is your resistance leader. I know of him since childhood.”

Lea had a look about her like she was being pranked. “You…you are fibbing. How can this man…be the resistance leader?!”

Beatrix looked into her daughter’s red eyes, as serious of an expression as she had ever seen. 

“He is very competent when he is not drunk, I can promise you that.”

“And you grew up with him in Treno?” Lea questioned, scratching her head. “This man…was a nobleman?”

“That is correct. He was the eldest son of the 3rd wealthiest family in Treno, and I was engaged to be married to him.”

Lea scowled at the man who may very well have been her father if born in a different time.

“You still haven’t really answered my question…how again is he related to the resistance?”

“I still haven’t ironed out all the details. All I know is that he has a huge following, and is using his knowledge against me to turn people against the throne.”

“But who would go out of their way to commit such atrocities for…is it…revenge?”

Beatrix snickered softly again, and Lea was beginning to feel utterly terrified. “I never said he was sane.”

“So why are you showing me all this now? What good will it do me to know? Does father know??”

The general bit her lip, and squeezed her eyes shut tight. She ignored the latter piece of her question.

“I…I believe we should kill him. Right here and now. You must help me. We must get rid of him, and at least temporarily quell this nonsense while we still can.”

“What?!” Lea hooted, afraid that he had heard them discussing his death. He was rolling his head around, muttering something undecipherable, looking ready to vomit on himself. “And why haven’t you taken this upon yourself? Why am I suddenly involved?!”

Beatrix looked around the street in paranoia, making sure nobody was listening before she spoke.

“I want you to put everyone here to sleep, while I kill him. There can be no witnesses. If common folk see me, I will be sent trial for slaughter of a commoner.”

Lea suddenly understood completely, but was unsure of her ability to do what was asked.

“I…I don’t have my harp on me. How am I to put them to sleep?”

“You sing the song,” Beatrix replied. “I have faith in your magic. It is powerful.”

Her face stretched skeptically, and she gulped, looking down at the man who had caused his mother an undue amount of stress.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really don’t have any notes for this chapter. I'm kind of trying to mirror in this story what is going on in our world right now, if that wasn't obvious. The new generation just isn't having it, and the older generation feels stuck.
> 
> It was a bit frustrating for me to write because it was so LONG, much longer than I had anticipated, but a lot needed to happen at this pivotal point in the story. I hope that I covered things well, and that they don’t feel rushed. I can say this is the part in the story where things are going to get a little wild.
> 
> Next chapter is the first part of Beatrix’s backstory, so stay tuned!!
> 
> Fanart commission of Lea, Beatrix and Lilia can be found here: 
> 
> http://sucre-sonic.tumblr.com/post/167769690060/the-steiner-ladies-thank-you
> 
> Thanks to quinnasaurus creations for the wonderful art!


	8. Going Blind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She sat just like the others at the table.  
> But on second glance, she seemed to hold her cup  
> a little differently as she picked it up.  
> She smiled once. It was almost painful.
> 
> And when they finished and it was time to stand  
> and slowly, as chance selected them, they left  
> and moved through many rooms (they talked and laughed),  
> I saw her. She was moving far behind
> 
> the others, absorbed, like someone who will soon  
> have to sing before a large assembly;  
> upon her eyes, which were radiant with joy,  
> light played as on the surface of a pool.
> 
> She followed slowly, taking a long time,  
> as though there were some obstacle in the way;  
> and yet: as though, once it was overcome,  
> she would be beyond all walking, and would fly. 
> 
> -Rainer Maria Rilke, “Going Blind”

IXIXIXIXIXIXIXIXIX

Beatrix Rose Griffin was not a happy girl.

The fourteen-year old even had to admit it to herself—though she so wished it were untrue. 

She placed her fingers gently on the piano keys, and rocked them back and forth, feeling the smooth surface underneath her soft, delicate fingertips. She glanced over her shoulder at the crowd waiting for her performance. In the Grosso Family Ballroom, thick silence filtered the energy of the space. 

The negativity that followed her to every recital caused her great distress. It didn’t matter that it was the most beautiful building in Treno, with walls made of true solid gold. It didn’t matter that her mother dressed her in the finest gowns, that she had many male admirers from many affluent houses, that she was quite good at playing piano, that she was even wealthy at all.

Uncomfortably, she looked away, unmotivated to begin her piece. But, the show had to go on, and so she began to play, from memory.

She was technically quite good at the piano, but her playing lacked feeling. She wasn’t focused on how the music made her feel, but only concerned with how the crowd was viewing her technical skill. She could hear them whisper while she played, when before they had been nothing but dreadfully silent, almost as if they wished for her to fail.

The fact of her entire family being there did not help. She could feel the hot burn of their gazes seer into her scalp. One cousin in particular, she knew, was quite jealous of her hair, and she could feel the silliness of a glower upon her.

These were the stupid, almost childish thoughts that ran through her head. The more serious ones took their toll. She knew what they were saying; she had heard it before.

“Beautiful, she is, and she plays well, but I hear she suffers of a neurosis, poor girl.”

“There’s a bit of a streak to her, as if one moment she would be kind, pleasant, obedient, the perfect daughter. But underneath her cool exterior, what lies? I hear her mother has a story on it…”

“Clementine claims she is depressed…poor thing.”

“Perhaps marriage and children will do her some good. I think if she got her head checked she could be a fine wife and mother.”

Beatrix didn’t know what they expected of her. Her father had died 3 years ago, and she still could not shake the memory of him teaching her the first notes of the piano. He was a musical genius, well versed in many instruments and had composed and conducted for the Grand Trenian Orchestra. Music was one of the only things that had made him truly happy. Seeing him happy, made her happy. All she ever wanted was to be happy by his side. He was her hero, her rock, her everything in life.

She wished he would have decided not to leave her that day, to go hunting. The lot of them, they left him behind to die in the attack. It was never worth it, to trust men. Men were never friends, only foes sporting the guise of a comrade.

“I could hear Gideon scream, help me, help me! There was nothing we could do; he had already been dragged away by the beast, into its underground lair. To this day, the sounds of him screeching out in pain as he was…eaten alive…they haunt my worst nightmares.”

She still didn’t understand why they couldn’t have stopped it, or why they let her hear the whole story. The image of her father being brutally massacred by some monster stuck with her, and if she managed to think too long on it, she would fall into a nervous fit.

She supposed that’s what they were talking about when they claimed her to be neurotic. They all knew that before, she was a rather happy, well-balanced individual.

Her playing continued, soft, pleasant, yet vapid. She wasn’t paying an ounce of attention to the piece. Her mind drifted suddenly, without reason, to the time when he had taken her to Alexandria for a day trip. She was merely 8 at the time, but the memory of the town always bided with her, fondly. She had been to Alexandria many times, and always enjoyed what it had to offer, with it being so bright, sunny, cheerful, the people happy. Her father had a fondness for the city that he spoke of often, and named her after its insignia. 

“You are my bringer of joy, my beautiful rose,” he would always dote on her. His tone when speaking about her always radiated the purest kind of love.

There was always one particular trip she preferred to reflect on. 

That day, there was a parade going through town, and her father held her on his shoulders so she could get the full view of it. She saw everything—the quaint, rustic architecture of every building, the wholesomeness and sincerity of the people, their excitement, the street vendors with their fresh produce and homemade goods, bargaining with the townspeople. Alexandria castle, so holy in its view, it’s large sword façade glinting magnificently in the distance. Every dancer made their way elegantly through the streets, every brass player sounded out each note clearly, the scantily-clad soldiers marching with the clear blue sky as their backdrop. Instantly, she had noticed that the army was indeed all female, and she questioned her father about it, knowing well that this was not the case in Lindblum or Burmecia.

“Father, why is the army all women here? Women are not supposed to take up arms!”

“Well, Trixie, darling…they take up a different philosophy here in Alexandria,” he answered warmly in his rich baritone. “You see, Alexandria has what you would call a matriarchy, meaning women are seen as all divine and as the most powerful in this country, which is the opposite of most places.”

Beatrix nodded and noticed a woman at the train of the parade of soldiers—a young, vibrant redhead with piercing blue eyes. She was tall and muscular, carrying a sword longer than her entire body.

“Father! Who is that pretty lady?”

He chuckled. “That is General Marceline. You know Beatrix, she was just promoted as General a few months ago after General Leanna stepped down. I hear she is quite the fierce warrior—and woman! She is rumored to have the best swordsmanship in the land, and at the tender age of 20! But alas, Alexandria is known for their superior soldiers, trained with the highest and most strenuous techniques of the holy sword.”

The young girl was mesmerized. She had never seen a woman so strong, so independent, walking with the grace of a thousand fairies and the strength of 100 men. She was confident, and made of pure class, much more than any noble from Treno could hope to have.

That day, Beatrix was sure Marceline felt her gaze. The general looked over, face bright, yet stone cold, and warmed up for a smile once she noticed the young admirer. As quickly as she grinned, it was over and she was out of sight. Beatrix could hardly contain her excitement, and hugged her dad’s neck. In a rush of ecstatic joy, she blurted out something her father never thought he’d hear.

“I want to be an Alexandrian solider!!!”

Gideon chucked, reaching up to stroke her silky brown hair.

“No you don’t, my rose. Admirable as it may seem, it is a life of subjugation and strife. It is a dark hole of misidentification and pure nothingness. You would be but a pawn, and your life’s purpose is much greater than that,” he started, lifting her from his shoulders and kneeling down to face her. He stoked her cheek. “I just know it.”

Beatrix looked down, holding her tummy in disappointment, but nodded at her father’s counsel.

“Ok daddy. I won’t be a solider. Can we go to the vendors now and buy some fresh strawberries?”

The memory washed away in an instant of pink and blue hues, the colors of her own nostalgia. The young adult was transported back to the present moment, as she had finished her song. The crowd sat silent for a moment, before breaking out into applause. Her eyes glossy, she managed to look out into the crowd. Her mother sat with her stepfather, and neither looked particularly impressed with her. Sitting next to them was the man she was to marry, Charles Boston, a man 7 years her senior. He appeared to be quite enthralled with her, but she knew he was merely infatuated with her post-puberty physique, one she herself was still growing into, and could not accept another person desiring her in what she felt was such an ugly way. She looked down at her chest, and recognized how her cleavage billowed outwards in the dress her mother forced her to wear. While it was true that proper womanly charms were a must in Treno, she still felt like a child inside a woman’s body. 

At once, she heard hissing behind her, and her instructor was yelling at her to get up and bow. Shook from her trance, she did stand to bow, but the applause was already dying out. She was quickly shoved off stage for the next performer, a girl two years her senior who happened to be much better at playing with feeling.

She sat down next to the rest of the music students, and anticipated the whispering she was to hear. They always talked loud enough so they made sure she knew exactly how much she was detested. They would talk about how talentless she was in the face of mere beauty, that beauty was the only thing she had going right, that she was messed up in the head and thank god for her looks. 

She was so tired of hearing about how beautiful she was, because she didn’t see herself as beautiful. She started to believe them, that she really couldn’t do anything quite right. She had let her father down in too many ways to count since his death, and her entire life was just one vicious cycle of powerlessness and despair.

There were times her suicidal tendencies took over her consciousness. The constant darkness of the city didn’t help. Internally, she felt frail and deficient of vital life force. She would sit in the bright, sparkling cleanliness of her porcelain bathtub, taking one of her dad’s old hunting daggers to her legs, and would cut and cut until there was no more white left on the tub’s interior. When the screams of her mother went unanswered as she banged on the door, her step father often found himself knocking it down. Clementine gasped audibly upon finding her in there, resting in a pool of her own blood, sobbing. Wasting no time to consider her own wrongdoings, she took a handful of Beatrix’s thick hair and dragged her out of the tub, still in the nude. She wrapped a robe around her and moaned of the blood that now soiled the carpet, and called for the doctor. They took her away to the psych ward, a place she called home for a few months.

These hadn’t been the last incidents of her cutting, but she was more careful about how she cut. She would often do it early in the morning during her bath, with a full tub to conceal any blood. Knowing that there were white mages on her mother’s side, she took up reading about white magic, and managed to teach herself cure in a short amount of time, if only to make sure she cured herself before any more bleeding could take place. Her handmaid noticed the cuts, but said nothing.

It was as if she had so much pent up emotion, that bleeding out felt like she was somehow releasing it, while punishing herself for being so defective.

She went about like this day to day, feeling thankful that long, extravagant, puffy dresses were the only thing she was allowed to wear as a noble girl in Treno. During her studying hours, she would caress her legs through her tights, and assure herself she was only hours away from her next round of cutting. It was an addiction, the only thing keeping her away from the psych ward again. 

She knew cutting could not save her from Charles, however. She was forced to see him twice a week, two nights in his mansion, and one night with her family. Always, they had a family dinner, and always he sat right next to her, forcing her hand underneath her dress and stroking her scars for her. He knew she was a cutter, and used it against her in the most psychologically cruel way imaginable. He had a way of making her feel like her body was not her own, though it was the only thing she felt she had her own power over.

She despised every fiber of his being.

“All arrangements are in order. May 1st. We will finally be wed, paid in full by my family with a dowry for yours.”

“Not as if we need it,” Clementine drawled lazily, pouring herself more wine from the large decanter in front of her. She swirled in around the glass before taking a sip. She presumed her daughter wanted more wine as well, and poured out some for her in addition. Beatrix was starting to feel ill, and wanted no more wine, but accepted the gift as her glass was pushed at her. She looked at Charles, who smirked at the ruby fluid and squeezed one of her more recent scabbing, busting it open. Beatrix yelped internally, but stayed quiet.

“And that’s the day after Beatrix’s birthday, too. She will be fifteen, then,” her mother said smugly, almost as if she were not present at the table. 

Beatrix looked down at the dark wood of the table, tracing her fingers over the swirls evident on its surface. She wished her father were here to protect her from such a tyrannical union. He’d have never agreed to the engagement, and he’d have found her a better suitor. It was the money, she knew, though Clementine denied it. But her mother wasn’t always like this, so easily persuaded by the material things in life, so obviously corrupt by the comfort it seemed to provide to her.

Once, she was a kind, gentle, and loving mother. After her father’s death, she had gone to a deep depression, and was only able to come out of her fit once she met her step father, Archibald. His influence on her changed her entirely, and she ceased to be the loving, attentive mother she used to be.

Beatrix blamed it on herself, wondering what she had done as a daughter to deserve being so suddenly rejected by the women who meant the most to her in the world. She often pondered how she could have been different somehow, perhaps even normal. She often fantasized about being a middle class working daughter in Dali, or perhaps Alexandria, where she had a laborious life, but was loved, and whole.

Dreams of going back to Alexandria were far out of reach ever since her father died. Her fiancé forbade her going, knowing her penchant for the city and rightfully assuming that it would lift her spirits. He used things like this against her; to keep her in depression was to keep her in chains.

She knew this, but resigned to it. The pain of the cut he forced open throbbed hotly, blissfully on her leg as she felt the warm ooze run down her stocking. Somewhere inside, she prayed it bleed her out.

“Yes, keep me here. Keep me here,” she thought, focusing faintly on her mother’s mouth as she spat drunken drivel. She looked back over at Charles, who had finally removed his hand, and then at Archibald, who poured himself another glass. They were all drunkards, and partook readily, regularly, and liberally. She often wondered if they would come to be different people if they quit the drink forever.

Beatrix took another sip of hers when her mother started to eye her suspiciously.

“Beeee-aaa-triiixx,” she sounded out. “You’re acting quite strange, what’s the matter with you, silly girl?”

Archibald, always present at the small family dinners, chimed in with insidious curiosity. “Yes, darling Beatrix, I have noticed you do not look well.”

Beatrix twisted her hands in her lap, and looked over at where Charles’s parents sat across the table, silent as stone. Their quiet, yet condemnatory presence enraged her. “There…is nothing the matter. How, pray tell, am I acting different than normal?”

Clementine caught the slight edge of sass. She reached over the table, swiftly, and back-handed the girl square across the cheek, and watched her fall from the table in her righteousness. Beatrix crumpled to the floor, raising her hand to her wound, but didn’t look up. She would never let on that the pain was mild compared to cutting.

“When your elders ask you a question, you answer properly. Do you understand me?” the woman asked, suddenly voracious, out for blood, and intent on Beatrix’s. She saw a slight nod set forth from the girl on the ground, and settled herself back into her chair in satisfaction. Her eyes travelled to the placated expression on Charles’s face, and he nodded, understanding her wishes. He helped the young girl back up to the table as if nothing had occurred. Beatrix sat gingerly and composed herself, hair a bit tousled, grabbing for her glass of wine and taking another sip to her mother’s wishes.

“…I am simply nervous for the wedding, is all mother,” Beatrix finally answered, feigning a smile at Charles. He squeezed one of her wounds once more. “In a decent manner, so to speak.”

“There is nothing to be nervous of, dear Beatrix,” Charles’s father, David, answered. “Charles will provide you with a good and secure life, and he will be a fine husband. You will want for nothing till the day you die.”

His mother, Irena, concurred, nodding her head fervently, but never speaking. Beatrix did not believe her genuine.

Powerless as she was, they could not imprison her within her mind. Her father had always taught her never to let anyone sway her or alter her convictions. He used to tell her she was strong as any man, physically or otherwise. And she knew, better than the whole lot of them, that she was better than everyone present at this table.

There was no convincing any of them that she was worth a true gil farthing, however. It was hard to keep herself in check, to keep herself from going to those dark places that they resided in her consciousness. Her father’s voice swam back to her in waves of relief, every time, reassuring her that she was not like these people in the slightest.

Dinner finally came to an end after grueling hours of listening to these terrible nobles rip each other apart. She sat in complete silence, never once asked for her own opinion. The truth was that Beatrix didn’t have an opinion, as she usually tuned out from all the vitriol. It made her stomach ache and her head pound.

A carriage was called for the two of them head back to the Beauford Estate, separate of his parents, who wished to stay longer. They stepped out from the Griffin Estate in the rain, and Charles opened an umbrella for his mate, and she begrudgingly thanked him. She climbed into the cabin first, as ladies usually did. Beatrix had, historically, tried to exit a stagecoach by opening the door and flinging herself out to escape his sexual advances, uncaring of possible death. 

She allowed the pitter-patter of the rain and the sound of the wheels against the cobblestones sooth her soul. She loved to get lost in sounds, imagining that they were carrying her off to distant lands on their waves, even if it were just for a few moments, a few minutes, an hour. Of all her coping skills, this one was by far her favorite, aside from sleep, which she rarely had.

She tried to ignore the small voice in her head that was praying Charles wouldn’t try to have sex with her in the coach.

A few minutes passed and she realized he would not try her tonight, at least, not inside the coach. She glanced over at him in her curiosity and found him preoccupied, arms crossed, focusing on the passing sights. She was grateful, but also a little afraid. What was wrong with him? His irritation never meant good things for her.

The rain stopped.

She noticed that the coach was starting to slow down, much sooner than she anticipated. She checked her surroundings and found that they were not stopping at the estate. When signaling that she would question, he beat her to the punch.

“We’re making a small stop. Get out of the coach, Amira will be waiting to keep you company.”

“Amira?” Beatrix questioned, the first light of joy in the day crossing her mind. Amira was her only friend. “And Alastor as well?”

“…Yes.” Charles answered quietly, and slid out of the coach, beckoning her come forward. She scooted over and was helped down by him, and immediately saw Amira. She ran up to the girl and hugged her, but as she pulled away to read her face she saw great dread and trepidation overcome her countenance.

“Amira…what is—

“Come,” the slightly older girl urged, and took Beatrix’s hand. They made their way into an alleyway a street over, and stopped their brisk walk in relatively well-lit spot. She reached into her reticule without a thought and produced a cigarette and matches. She bid Beatrix hold the cigarette while she lit the match, and demanded she place it in her mouth.

“So I can light it, darling,” Amira said, noticing the bewildered expression present on the younger girl’s face. Beatrix did what she was told and the cigarette came alive in a blaze. She took a drag and brought it down to her side, taking care not to blow into Amira’s face. Beatrix noticed her dark purple hair was tied up elegantly, yet hanging down in pieces fashionably against her alabaster skin. Her admiration always set her in awe of the young woman.

“Worry does not suit you,” Beatrix said finally after a long-winded pause, and passed the cigarette over to her friend. “What troubles you so?”

The girl’s emerald green eyes rung out in pleading for a split second, before she waved Beatrix off and brought the cigarette to her lips.

“It is nothing, believe me. Alastor and Charles have business to attend to that we are not allowed to take part in.”

“I don’t believe you, that it is nothing. Do you have any ideas on what that business may entail?”

She merely shook her head and dragged ashes into dust with her foot. “It does not matter. When Al says walk away, I know he means it.”

Beatrix watched her inhale again, then tried to pass it over. She took it, but wavered. Amira focused on the smoke billowing from the stick, blooming upwards majestically into the yellow light of a streetlamp.

“I…I always looked up to Alastor. Thought he’d be a good example to Charles, maybe shake him of his darkness, his vitriol for some of the non-humans here in Treno,” Beatrix started, trembling a bit at the thought of a fall from grace. “I…I don’t want to hear that he is one to blame for Charles’s wretchedness, somehow.”

“Not responsible, no,” Amira shrugged. She then shook her head with reckoning. “But I do now believe he himself has gotten involved in the same brand of garbage as Charles…”

“So the reverse is true,” Beatrix accepted, shaking her head and taking another drag. Amira approached her swiftly and got so close, their noses nearly touched.

“Don’t ever tell anyone what you witnessed here tonight. Do you understand me, Beatrix? No one.”

The green cast of her eyes bore hard into her own red ones. She could feel the intensity, the panic. She gulped.

“Not to one soul.”

“Bound by your word,” Amira accepted, grabbing the younger girl’s hand and leading her back farther into the alley, where they made their way around a corner and into another alleyway. She allowed her body to be dragged by the urgency, feeling her heart pound in terror in her throat. She older girl stopped abruptly, peeking around the corner, then beckoned Beatrix forward to take a look. She looked to her for assurance, but found nothing. She somehow found the courage to look, and balked violently at what she saw.

There was a girl, a few years older than her, on her knees. She was not human. Her sobs were heavy and desperate, and could be heard from yards away. At first, Beatrix could not quite make out what was going on, but her eyes drifted over to two bare, male bottoms, concealing the girl’s face.

“Quit your crying, you slut! Do what you’re told…”

Beatrix recognized the voice immediately. Sinister and overbearing. It belonged to Charles. She put a hand over her mouth, partially in disgust, partially due to the nausea she was beginning to feel. She realized the other man was Alastor, and he was just a guilty party to what was happening as Charles.

“No…please…I…I need…to be paid for my services…it’s not my fault—

“SHUT THE FUCK UP!”

This time, it was Alastor. The girl’s moans, pleading and sobs soon became muffled, and Beatrix had to hide her eyes from the rest. 

They were both raping her.

Beatrix moved away from the corner and knelt down to the ground, retching. Amira ran up to her and held back her hair, shushing her.

“Beatrix! Please try to be quiet—they’ll hear you.”

“Amira,” Beatrix croaked after coughing, and wiping away the saliva that escaped the corners of her mouth, “They’re raping her. What—we are going to do nothing?”

Amira shook her head and grabbed Beatrix’s face. “No. Never. The same will happen to you if you tell someone. They have absolute power in this city and no one will ever stop them. You must know your place and that only.”

She became deviant, incredulous.

“And why? Why should any of us have to put up with this? My father…he always said, we women weren’t created to be obedient to our husbands, puppets if you will. We are meant for so much greater than this…” she said, slamming her fist on the cobblestones, regretting it immediately. It made a large, echoing clap, and Amira looked behind them just to make sure it didn’t draw attention. Luckily, it wasn’t loud enough.

“There’s got to be a better way…a better life than this,” Beatrix insisted, half defeated. 

“Well there isn’t!” Amira yelled quietly, whipping her head back around. “Be thankful you have the life you do! The money, the clothing, the food, the prestige! You could have been born into a family in the slums, like that poor girl!”

Beatrix bit her tongue, knowing she was right, even if she still wished herself poor. She shook her head, and turned her back to Amira, letting out a tiny, weak sob. She began retching once more.

“Beatrix, come. You must stop crying, now. I think the coach is finally back ‘round…”

She lifted the young girl by the hands, and both dashed back to the coach. Beatrix hopped in, waiting for Charles. She looked down into Amira’s face for comfort. Under the light of the streetlamp, it glowed with warmth, motherliness, beauty. All things she felt her own mother now lacked. She pursed her lips, and squeezed her eyes tight to keep the tears from leaking out. She wished so very much that she could have had a loving mother, that her father were still alive, that things could have somehow been different for her.

“I’m telling you, beautiful wonder…” Amira started, climbing halfway into the carriage to cup Beatrix’s face one last time. The sincerity in her eyes tipped Beatrix over the edge, and the younger one could not hold back her tears. “Appreciate the life you have. You are so lucky, so talented, so wonderful. Use those things well, and you will not only live, you will soar.”

The warm, soft hand was taken from her face, and she reached out after it, only just realizing it was replaced with Charles. He climbed violently into the carriage, straightening his collar as thought what he had just done was a matter of business. Sweat beaded his forehead and coated his hair in greasiness. He sneered at Beatrix before demanding the coach driver pull the beasts hard.

He didn’t know it, but Beatrix, in that moment, was aware that Charles was somehow involved in the very large, very profitable, but very underground business that was the Treno sex trade.

Sex trade.

She didn’t look at him the entire ride home, and he didn’t care. She only made herself dizzy watching the cobblestones fly by.

 

IXIXIXIXIXIXIXIX

The two of them were finally back at the estate, Beatrix rifling through her mind about how she could possibly get out of having sex with him that evening. Knowing where he had been and what he had been doing made her impossibly ill, and she knew it would be quite difficult to fake any sort of arousal, as she usually did. 

His parents were still not home, however, so she was not presented with opportunity of excuse. She wondered if they knew about his side business.

They entered the bedroom, the sight of the many artifacts from the auction house and the walls adorned with gold leaf, reminding her somehow of her father. She turned to him once she sat gingerly on the bed, feeling the panic run immediately from her heart to her intimate parts. He slammed the door behind him and whipped around, wasting no time in the removal of his own clothing.

“What were you doing out there that took so long?” Beatrix had the courage to ask, daring to stall him. She was unsure if she could handle him psychologically; she was too broken from what she had witnessed earlier.

He was unbuckling his belt when he stopped abruptly in response to her question, a look of incredulity possessing his features.

“Since when do you ask questions? Lay down on the bed.”

“No,” Beatrix fought back, insistent. “If we are to be married, should you not be honest with me? And do you believe I’d…never find out?”

He snickered, and put his foot down. “You won’t find out. You’re not very well connected, and as your mother and myself had made sure of it. Mentally unstable and unfit women have no place in society besides being obedient wives. Now quit mouthing off, you shrew, and do what I say.”

“I won’t.” Beatrix stated daringly, the last remark sending her to a breaking point. She stood up, one trembling finger pointing in his direction. His expression remained smarmy. 

“I warn you…I cannot take much more of this. I may well go mad.”

He trudged up to her with quick, heavy steps and forced his hand around her neck, pushing her down on the bed into a struggle. Beatrix did her best to fight him off, even attempting to awaken some type of holy magic like she’d been practicing, but it was no use. She made one last attempt to try and claw at one of his eyes, and managed to get his right one briefly, but he never let go of his grip.

“I…don’t…understand you…” Beatrix whimpered through gasps, bringing her hands back to her own throat to try and pull his hands off. He was too strong. Pure terror registered on her face once her vision started to go spotty, and she thought she may die there. She could see well enough to look into his left eye. The evil had never quite left it, and he was still full of hatred in all his vigor. The energy was so overwhelming, that Beatrix would have welcomed death. A bead of sweat dripped from his head onto her chin, and she understood how the sex worker felt in her moment of dark night. He leaned down finally, and his rancid breath filled her nostrils. Her panting worsened as he leaned into her ear, going to do god knew what.

He simply whispered.

“There is nothing here to understand, woman-child. Only darkness resides inside me.”

He was still for a moment, relishing in his own nature, and laughing at his own words. The stillness gave Beatrix no relief. She knew what was coming.

He suddenly removed his hands from her neck, knowing she was full out of fight. He dug both knees into her legs so she could not move, and she howled in misery. He forced his hands inside the lace of her dress, and began ripping it to shreds. She sobbed hard for the duration, fully understanding her hopeless state, and succumbing to that. Charles got sick of the noise, and slapped her five times until she was still again.

She was completely naked, exposed, prime for his kill. She closed her eyes, and couldn’t bear to look. She had no choice but to accept it, and though it wasn’t the first time, her exhaustion in the mere beginning told her it would be the worst time. The chill she felt across her skin awaited his burning touch in agony. The cold was so unbearable to her skin, exposed to the hostile air, that she began to quake, and wished only for him to get it over with.

There was no touching, no fondling, no kissing. No sign of a man that loved her at all. Just entry, painful, brutal, torturous entry, the weight of him bearing on her with no thought of her feelings, her consciousness, her soul, her humanity. He forced himself upon her in such a way that she knew she was bleeding, thankfully lessening the traction. She tried to blare out the sensation of him hitting her inner walls cruelly, unfeelingly. Her body knew instinctually that this was the only way she would be able to survive this. She instantly forgot the sensation of pain, and dissociated.

Why are you so intent on keeping me alive?

It was finally over. She was mildly aware of the leaking sensation of his seed inside her, and felt blessed by the heavens when he jumped off her and curled up on the side of the bed, panting heavily. She didn’t move. She didn’t feel that she was capable of such. She felt as if she were merely a rag, a used up rag, ready to be thrown out with other vile contents of trash. She felt subhuman. She let herself feel something—the pain was so acute that she was a hair’s breadth away from feeling absolutely nothing. 

She was sure she was straddling insanity. She was so sure of it as she lay there, bleeding. Charles blew out the candles as he heard his parents enter the home, and Beatrix knew she was then allowed to curl up underneath the blankets with him.

She never even had to see the clean up. By the time she woke up the next morning, Charles had long since been gone along with any evidence of her rape from the night prior. A rap on the door alerted her to her surroundings. A servant burst through the door and held up a fresh, newly bought dress for her to wear to school that day.

IXIXIXIXIXIXIXIXIX

She tapped her quill on the first line of the blank page. Writing wasn’t really her forte; it frustrated her so much that it made her nose itch. She blinked a few times at the parchment, then pardoned to concede to Doctor Tot, her philosophy professor and tutor. He cocked his head to look down at her face, and the pained expression she wore was both beautiful and unbearable to look at. The disparity between the two made Dr. Tot chuckle.

“I don’t know. Is he perhaps talking about the impermanence, or inconstant state of any one person’s emotions or ideas?” Beatrix asked, nearly giving up.

“Well…look into it further. What do you think Moses Akerchink meant when he said ‘the world cannot truly be made of the stuff people are made’?” He countered, already knowing the academic answer.

“I think he was quite out of his mind,” Beatrix said, throwing down her quill and crossing her arms. She mostly pretended to be frustrated. On most days, she would have taken the time to think up a proper answer, but she had been sick to her stomach for the 5th morning in a row and could not grab at her concentration.

“Think of it this way,” Dr. Tot continued, putting up his finger and disappearing behind one of the many bookcases in his observatory. He came back with a book as large and thick as a fist. “Maribell Transi writes of his musings, ‘the consciousness of the person on Gaia is vast, and quite effortlessly complicated’…”

Beatrix couldn’t take it anymore. She buried her head in her hands and started to shake, unsure if she would throw up in ten seconds of if she could hold off for another 30 minutes until her session was over.

“Miss Griffin, surely you do not believe you will pass your test by giving up?”

He was quick to judge her, before he saw her cradling her head in her hands.

“What is wrong, Beatrix? Do you feel ill?”

The weight of pressure to perform was lifted off her shoulders, and she was relieved he noticed. He seemed sympathetic enough, so she spoke up about her condition.

“Please forgive me, Dr. Tot…it’s just that for the past few days I have felt very ill.”

“What do you mean by ill?” the bird-man asked, rubbing his beard with his fingers.

Beatrix tried to think how she would explain it without sounding like she was deathly ill. She was starting to think that she might have been.

“I…I have felt…for the past few mornings, so sick to my stomach that I could throw up multiple times, and I have. The waves hit me every hour of the morning, then stop once I eat lunch.”

He tapped his finger on the table, furrowing his brow and inspecting the flush of her cheeks. She barely had one at all, and was quite sallow.

“Are you hungry come lunch, or are you forcing yourself to eat?”

“That’s the weird part…” Beatrix trailed off, tapping her temples. “I…have been voraciously hungry after these waves of nausea end.”

“And do you find that your moods have been changing lately?”

The young woman winced and nodded. “Yeah. I’ve been pretty irritable and quite tired lately, now that you mention it.”

Dr. Tot nodded with all this information presented to him, and eased himself down into a chair next to her. He clasped his hands together and looked her square in the eye.

“Beatrix…do forgive my intrusion into your personal life, but are you by chance…sexually active?”

The question took her by surprise, but she answered, curious as to why he was asking. “Well, yes. I am, but hardly by choice. It’s commonplace for girls my age, anymore. Why do you ask?”

He hesitated, and his voice creaked for a moment. He didn’t know how to suggest what he might…

“…Beatrix, dear. I think…you might want to see a doctor. Have you told Clementine how you’re feeling?”

Beatrix scoffed, turned her face away from him. “Hmph. No! I’ll tell her nothing of my life if I can help it.”

“I won’t interfere into your personal life anymore, young one, but I reiterate that perhaps you should see a doctor,” he insisted, adjusting his glasses, which were falling off his beak.

In that instant, as she watched the glasses almost slide off his nose, she had an epiphany. She knew exactly what he was hinting at, and her stomach dropped so hard that she actually had to run over to the balcony and throw up. Once she was done retching, she wiped her mouth and turned around to find Dr. Tot leading her to a little cot one floor above his study. As they mounted the ladder, Beatrix was grateful that he seemed to care so much about her well-being.

“Just rest here,” he insisted, laying her down onto the small bed and covering her with a quilt. “I will grab a doctor for you. There is a practice just down the road.”

“Call whomever you want,” Beatrix pleaded, “But whatever you do, do not call my mother.”

Dr. Tot look at her gravely for a moment, then nodded, and turned away to rush down the ladder. Beatrix was so sick, that it felt like hours before one came. She half fell asleep in the mean time, and was woken up by a light touch on the shoulder. She squinted her eyes to focus on the features of the doctor’s face. Dr. Tot saw that they got settled in, and left the room. He had Beatrix sign a few forms, then started hs work.

He had long, straight blonde hair and teal eyes, which were gentle and caring. He smiled at the young girl, and asked her if she would scooch to the edge of the bed, where he could do a full body inspection. Beatrix nodded and obeyed, and watched him gently set down his briefcase, inside a variety of different medical tools, herbs and potions. The sensations of having cold, alien hands touch her all over her were somehow comforting to her, and a welcome change from the scorching, searing hands of her fiancé.

Once the body inspection was over, the doctor went back into his toolbox with a small, soft hum and brought out what looked like pliers and a long metal rod.

“Please open your legs, if you would, Beatrix.”

She froze in fear for a moment, her body and mind collectively taking her back to the time she was raped, but she realized where she was and finally was able to breathe. She nodded her head in consent and watched as the doctor stuck the uncomfortable objects in her body. There was another hum from him, this time a more disapproving one, and Beatrix could feel her begin to ask the dreaded question, almost knowing why she was asking.

“You…are sexually active, my dear?”

“…Yes.”

There were no more hums, no more sounds from the tools, only silence. Suddenly, the doctor stood up and began packing his tools away. His hands hovered over a few potions for a moment, then he grabbed one before shutting it. He rolled the glass container in his hands as he walked over, and handed it to Beatrix, a sad look present in his gaze.

“As a doctor, I have to deliver all news, good or bad. I don’t know how you will receive this, but it is prudent that you know now,” he started, pausing for another few moments, then continuing, “Miss Griffin…it appears that you are with child. And about 6 weeks along.”

With that, he pursed his lips into a flat line, went and grabbed his suitcase, and walked down the stairs, leaving Beatrix in a state of total shock, disbelief, and terror.

“I’m pregnant with…his baby,” She thought. 

IXIXIXIXIXIXIXIX

Her legs felt like jelly. Every person in the city of night’s face blurred so that it was indistinguishable from the rest. She was a martyr for their sins, a lady to hold the blame for Eve existing, the fable of Adam and Eve. She felt the weight of her own implications as a woman, of their actions against her, of their power, of the very little she had herself. 

She hated every face she looked at that day. Downturned, scowling, downtrodden, joyful, neutral. She hated them all. Every beggar she walked past, every decked out, rich man. Every woman, especially the happy ones, the ones who laughed at her as she passed by them.

She didn’t even try to keep composure. The moisture leaked out of her eyes, her mouth gaping, gasping for some type of relief. Her eyes must have been puffy and red, her hair amassed with tangles, her underclothes torn. Her skin torn, her body ruined.

She wanted nothing more than to punch herself in the stomach, to kill the damn thing and rip it out and throw it on the sidewalk. She imagined it as the likeliness of Charles, in deep pain, throbbing, pulsating, begging for it to be over. There was no identification of herself in the seed planted, and she knew she was remiss, on the train to the underworld for the way she thought about the fetus inside.

6 weeks pregnant. 

It was shameful even in Treno to be pregnant with a child at nearly 15 years old. Most waited until they were at least 18. She knew she didn’t need any more shame, any more guilt, infamy or attention brought to her life. She just wanted to run away from it all, to live somewhere else, be someone else, where nobody knew her face or her name. She was sick of being a famous noble girl, and at that instant, closed her eyes and prayed to be but a beggar.

Then, a clicking noise filled her ears. For some reason, there was a resonance, a comfort that came along with it. She promptly took off her top hat and turned to see a thin, short, sickly-looking blonde man tap dancing on the cobblestones. Beatrix watched him in awe, transfixed by the sounds, and the technique. She reached into her change purse and found a few gil to throw into his hat. Their eyes met, and instantly there was an electric wave that ran through her.

“Why, thank ya miss!” the boy said, clearly of a lower status by the sound of his accent. “I really ‘preciate the help. Living dance to dance, ya know?”

All the while, he kept up his performance, until there were a final few taps, and he took a bow.

“You are certainly quite the performer,” Beatrix noted, impressed. 

“Ah, yes…and you, miss? Your name, I mean?”

Beatrix hesitated, not knowing if she wished him to know. She ultimately decided that he seemed trustworthy enough.

“I am Lady Beatrix Griffin, daughter of Gideon Griffin, as you may well know.”

The boy wracked his brain for her name, but could not find likeness.

“Don’t know either of ya, I have to say. You’re a noblewoman, I ‘spect.”

Beatrix nodded. “Yes. Couldn’t you tell by my dress?”

They both laughed in unison, and again she felt the electricity emanating from his deep brown eyes. For the first time in a long time, her heart fluttered a bit. 

“Ya look pretty troubled for being a noble woman. I’m sorry my dancing didn’t cheer ya to the bone. May I ask…what’s troubling ya, miss?”

Beatrix instantly shook her head, knowing she couldn’t take herself that far to reveal her new secret. “It is nothing. I am simply tired.”

The teenaged boy drew closer, inching toward her expression. It turned downwards in a general fashion, and it was evident that she was lying.

“I don’t believe ya. It seems to me like you don’t have no confidants, either.”

She was taken aback by his forwardness, then looked to the ground to try to hide the truth that lay in plain sight. She rubbed her hands together for a second, and felt that maybe telling a stranger her truth would do her some good. After all, he didn’t know who she was.

“Well…if I’m being honest…I am…unexpectedly with child.”

The boy’s face drew back in shocked. He pondered her troublesome situation for a moment, and bowed to her.

“I’m sorry, miss. That must be stressful for ya.”

Beatrix laughed a bit, then sighed dejectedly. “It is…I don’t know what I’m going to do.”

She realized immediately that the boy was very forward.

“Well…don’t you want the child?”

The question struck her like a stake in the heart. She was forced to reckon with the true fact that she, indeed, did not want her own child.

“I…I do not. I am not prepared to be a mother,” she resolved, shaking her head and throwing her hands to her side. “But what can I do?”

He eyed her up at the moment, figuring that she wasn’t that far along. He shrugged. “You could always get an abortion, ya know. I know a lot of noble women that have done it. They hate their husbands and don’t want to bear their children, I guess.”

Beatrix recoiled in shock.

“A-An abortion?! I didn’t know people actually did such things!”

“Yeah,” the boy continued, pacing the sidewalk. “I know a good doctor who does ‘em under the table, if ya want. Your guy would never even know you were pregnant in the first place…”

Beatrix blinked furiously, blushing, not knowing exactly what to say. She was stunned to silence. The boy caught on, and reached inside his pocket, pulling out an address slip with no name.

“Here…that’s the name of the place if you wanna go…he does ‘em for a small fee and is real clean. Even knows a bit of white magic, I reckon.”

Beatrix took the paper with shaking hands. The boy picked up his tip hat, and raised it to her as to signal good day.

“Wait!” Beatrix yelled after him as he began to walk away. “I didn’t catch your name!”

He turned back around to face her, walking backwards and waving.

“Just call me Boy Dutch,” he yelled before disappearing into an alleyway.

IXIXIXIXIXIXIXIXIX

She sent a telegram in the night.

They sent her a telegram back, not long after.

It had been a week after she had found out, and this was the soonest they could fit her in. The clinic wasn’t too far from the observatory, she and she could see the shining fires lit on giant torches when she looked above. For a moment, she prayed for some fire god to burn the city to destruction, but she realized it was no use. For the transient flame that danced on the reflection of her eyes…every man, woman and child in the city was just as transient. And they would never be captured, destroyed, brought to their knees…

Beatrix has been brought to hers many more times than she cared to count. 

She turned back toward the large, tall, iron doors and waited for the doctor to come get her, as instructions stated. She was told very plainly not to use the front entrance, as that was for the normal patients. Abortion was illegal in Alexandrian territory; legal in the rest of the world. It wasn’t the first time she wished she wasn’t Trenian. Treno always twisted Alexandrian laws to the rich man’s liking.

She tried to act nonchalant. She propped herself up against a brick wall, and looked down at the commoner’s clothes she wore, just to disguise herself. God forbid anyone recognize her—she would likely be briefly jailed, then beheaded under Alexandrian law. There would be no trial.

She shivered so deeply it rocked her bones. She pulled up the hood on the cloak she was wearing, mentally kicking herself for not doing it sooner. She placed a hand to her belly when she suddenly felt it move. In addition to her violent shivering, she was beginning to doubt herself.

“Do I really…want to kill my own child?”

At that moment, as a pang of fear ran through her gut, the door opened quickly, and a slender woman with blue hair in a white coat was signaling at her.

“Delina?” she asked.

“Yes,” Beatrix answered, referring to her fake name.

“Come in, then,” the woman whispered, and Beatrix followed her into a dark, mildly grungy hallway. She held her coat close to her chest as she crossed her arms, feeling the chill of the draft come upon her skin. The bright torches illuminated every hallway so brightly that she felt out of place—every detail seemed impossibly stark against the light, and it made her head feel like it was going to spin off her neck.

“Do not fret now, my dear,” the nurse reasoned, reckoning her reactions with all the girls who came before her. “These are the back rooms. Nobody official will find you here.”

That didn’t make Beatrix feel better. Her first thought was of all the second-rate doctors who performed abortions in this place. She thought she saw a blood stain on the wall.

“H-How many…doctors here have performed abortions here?”

She smirked, and directed Beatrix to a door, leading to what she assumed was the “operating” room.

“Only a few…there aren’t many that risk getting caught, mind. However…a lot care about these women and lay their lives on the line…like the one you’re getting today…”

“So, my doctor is experienced?”

The woman cocked and eyebrow, then smiled warmly, as she ushered her into the room. All that was there, was a tiny bed covered in a few layers of linens, and a small bedside table of tools, presumably for the doctor to use. Beatrix turned to her promptly, a look of terror sullying her gaze.

“It’s ok…just put on the gown laid on the bed and the doctor will be in momentarily,” the woman insisted, pointing to what Beatrix had assumed was an excess of linens. 

She said no more before shutting the door on Beatrix, leaving her alone in the cold, dimly lit room, and even worse, with her thoughts. 

She didn’t know what else to do but obey and put on the gown, and she slipped off the commoner clothes she donned, slowly, but forcefully. The slipped off her body with more ease than she wanted, and another shockwave of pain and guilt ran through her spine. She came to face with her belly. The fetus was hardly anything at all but still a presence in her life since she discovered it. She raised her shaky hands and hovered over the skin, feeling the warmth emanate from it. She closed her eyes and tried to fight back the tears forming in them, but it was no use. A few rolled down her cheeks and onto the surface of her stomach. She opened her eyes, and through the warped veil of tears she wanted to make a cry for help, help from anyone who would hear her, but it was no use. It was do this, or live a hell alongside Charles for all of eternity. It would be the very one thing that would bind them forever, and she could never have it. Instead, she found the voice to apologize to it, however hoarse and weak the apology was. 

She laid herself down on the bed, and wondered how many women had laid in this spot before her. Probably more than she could have thought. She at once thought of all these women in disdain, aborting their own flesh and blood, before coming back to her own reality. She felt she had a good reason, but at least she had money. More guilt filled the empty spaces, and she just wished it over with. She stared up at the off white ceiling, and pulled the flimsy blanket over her body, and waited. She tried very hard to quiet her mind, but it kept shouting at her. 

Shame. Shame. Shame.

The voice was, of course, her mother’s. Not that she believed her mother would care about losing the child so much as she cared about shaming her own daughter. It seemed to be a pastime for her.

Her heart was pounding. She was rigid with fear. She felt the desperate urge to cry out again, a coldness running over her body, a cruel stream. Right as this feeling hit, she heard the doctor come through the door, and she had the urge to look at the person that would be taking the life out of her womb, but for some reason, she did not look.

She heard the door shut with a short, soft click. 

“Delina?” the voice asked. It was that of a woman’s. Beatrix almost didn’t respond, partly because of the shock that her doctor was a woman, not the man she had expected.

“Uh…yes?” 

“Hi. My name is Doctor Orlagh. That is not my real name, of course. You must understand…”

Beatrix nodded her head solemnly, feeling the coolness of the sheet against her chin. It comforted her, somehow.

“I do understand.”

The doctor did not speak again for a while. She walked over to the table and prepped herself.

“I am limited on time here, and have many more appointments today. I am quick, thorough and clean. With my methods, the baby does not suffer any pain and will die immediately. Do you understand?”

Beatrix reiterated that she understood, cringing at the word “die”.

“Good. I just need to sterilize my tools entirely, then I will be ready.”

The doctor did just that, then Beatrix felt the lower blanket be lifted off her legs. The chill air funneled to her nether reasons, and her violent shaking only increased.

“Ok, I am going to enter your cervix. There will be a small amount of pressure for about a minute, then you will feel a sharp pain shortly after, then it will be over and I can send you on your way. Are you ready?”

“Yes,” Beatrix lied, and her voice was hoarse again. The doctor said nothing else, and entered her. It was all exactly as described, and was over within three minutes.

“There. All done. Take your time putting your clothes back on. One of my assistants will be in shortly to let you out.”

And that was it. Beatrix didn’t raise her head to get a look, and let the doctor leave without ever knowing who she was. The words “all done” rang out in her head. It was over. 

She sat up and frowned at what she had just done, but felt relieved, knowing that she could go home and nobody would ever have to know that she was pregnant in the first place. They were all too absorbed in themselves to even notice whether or not she had acted differently in these past few months.

What scared her most was the idea that she may have to come back. She knew she had to figure out some way to escape falling pregnant again, now that she knew she was more than capable. She clumsily slipped her clothes back on, and eagerly waited for the assistant. 

The one who entered was the same one of whom led her into the room. She was escorted out of the building brusquely, too brusquely, even. Beatrix noticed this with an bad feeling in her gut, and started to slow down her walk. 

“Come, we must be quick.”

“What is the real rush to have me out? Should I not have time to recover from what I just went through.”

“You mean what you did to that poor child?” the assistant asked, coldly. Beatrix stopped walking, alarmed by the comment. They were already very close to the door out. The assistant walked up to it, and turned around to face Beatrix.

“I know who you are,” she said gravely, snarling as her hand reached for the handle. “You’re Lady Beatrix of house Griffin.”

The young girl took a step back in shock, her first reaction being to snap off the girl’s wrist before she could open the door.

“Wait!” Beatrix shouted, panicked. “Who are you and how do you know who I am?!”

“Your clothes don’t fool me,” she stated, turning the handle.

Beatrix’s eyes narrowed, and she suddenly understood what was going on. She balled her fists with growing rage. She had been duped.

“You…the tap dancing boy. Both of you know my fiancé, I presume?”

The girl scowled. “Of course. He has lots of connections in this town, and many eyes watching you. You’re a silly girl for thinking he wouldn’t be monitoring your every action.”

“And you’re all wretched, filty, horrid people,” Beatrix insisted, not backing down. “Look at you. A woman betraying your own.”

She shrugged. “What do I care, really? He pays me handsomely, after all. More handsomely than these silly doctors.”

“Why then, huh? Why would Charles let me do this if he knew about it? Let me kill his own child?”

“He wanted to see if you actually would. And you did. You’ve proved yourself a nasty, disobedient mate—and you’re going to pay the price for that.”

Without another word, she opened the door. Standing in the way was Charles, fists balled in rage, barely giving her time to process what was happening before he lunged in, running at her. She tried to turn and run but she wasn’t fast enough. He pulled her by her curls all the way down until they were out the doorway. Her body flew onto the street, hitting her head and scraping her arm badly. He picked her back up by her hair and hauled her off. 

To god knows where, she thought. Maybe she deserved it. She heard the voice of the assistant in the distance:

“Don’t trust everyone you meet on the streets, foolish girl!”  
It seemed like he dragged her forever. Her head was agonizing from the pain of being pulled by her scalp.

“I have eyes everywhere!” she heard him shout. He sounded distant, somehow, and his screams faded away. The alleyway went blurry. She wished for a brain bleed so she could just die.

He threw her down on a trash heap somewhere. She felt the sensation of some rotten smell, and a goo attached itself to her uninjured arm. She recalled him faintly pulling out a knife, waving it around as if he were dancing with it, making promises to it, courting it, loving it. Things he never did with her.

Then, it was there. Some unbearable pain in her nether regions, immediately snapping her out of her trance. She realized he was raping her with a knife.

Death finally stared her in the face, but she didn’t want to go painfully, like this. She raised her arms in fight or flight response, and he didn’t expect it She was able to plunge her right hand toward his right eye, and hit him hard. He dropped the knife and stood up, backing away to complain about the pain for a moment.

“You bitch!!” he screeched, holding his face in agony. Beatrix realized this might be her only time to escape, and grabbed after the knife he dropped. She kicked up dust with her hands, wildly. Her vision was still blurry, the scape of the land spinning, but she managed to find it’s handle. She attempted to stand up and stab him with it, but he recovered in time to stop her. He grabbed her wrist mid-stab and threw her back down onto the pile of trash, holding both her wrists down. He left his dominant left hand free to wield the knife and held it to her face. Beatrix willed herself to scream out for help, but she had no voice left.

“You…you killed my child!” Charles accused, but he was insincere. “You must pay!”

He painstakingly placed the knife against her temple and paused it there. Beatrix felt the cold blade not quite pierce her skin, portending of her terror, of the eye she knew may very well lose. 

He started to drag the blade up her cheekbone, and this time Beatrix did manage to scream out in agony. Wherever they were, no one could hear her screams, or simply ignored them. Her trembling only intensified, and this cause for the knife to go wonky with an already unsteady hand. A sharp pain ran up her entire face as she felt him carve a deep wound, finally feeling him enter the area of her right eye socket, before pausing, as if he had hesitation.

“Please, please, I beg of you!” Beatrix pleaded, now crying. “Do not do this!”

He was breathing deep, heavy, rough. He then chuckled, and stroked her eyebrow gently.

“You think it’s all fun and games to kill my baby, then you fuck with my eyes. I told you...you’re going to pay.”

He left the desire behind. He acted in his rage. He plunged the knife full force into her eye, and she had never felt such overwhelming pain in her life. She wailed out desperately for him to kill her, but he just kept moving up her face. He next maimed her eyebrow, but her head was in so much general pain that she did not feel it.

She knew one thing; if he was not going to kill her, then she didn’t want to live through the pain of this. She was going to try and kill herself, somehow. Perhaps move her head around in a way where he accidentally stabs her in the neck…

Then, there was some type of divine light shining on her. Treno was never light, and she never had hope of her rapist’s body being lifted off hers before. But it was true: his crushing weight was suddenly gone, and the first thing she knew to do was throw her hands to the hardness of the ground, and scramble her legs to stand up. She backed herself against the wall and tried to steady herself, knowing that if she didn’t get away quickly, she would never escape him

She tried to focus her eyes on the figure standing there in the mix of light and blurry darkness, but she could not make out a face. All she saw was a tall, muscular man in a suit, looking down at her. She shook in anticipation and gratitude, wondering what he wanted from her.

“W-Who are you?” Beatrix barely managed.

The figure didn’t answer immediately. He stood there for a moment. He raised a hand and pointed toward the west side of the city.

“It doesn’t matter. Free yourself, Beatrix. Go, now. Run. Before it’s too late.”

Beatrix decided not to ask questions. She nodded her head and felt more clarity than ever. She knew exactly what he meant by “run”, whoever he was.

He meant to get out of town. If they found her, she was dead.

She bowed her head and thanked him, mustering up the energy to run. She sprinted down the alleyway and found one of the main drags, and by memory, thought of the only person she could turn to for help.

She ran for about 20 minutes, unstopping, though she felt she may collapse at any moment. She realized her one working eye had to adjust to every sight, and her head thudded. Her adrenaline was pumping, her thoughts racing. Her life was on the line. She finally made it to the observatory, and grabbed the steel rail that led up the ramp. She looked up at the brightly-lit globe that was its landmark, and shouted up to see if Dr. Tot was home. She made a small prayer in the back of her mind, and closed her eyes.

“Dr. Tot!” she screamed. “Dr. Tot!!”

She waited for a moment and heard nothing from him. She started to run up the ramp and up the stairs, when she heard him answer.

“Hello? Did someone call my name?” he asked into the open air. Beatrix looked up mid run and saw his beak protruding from the top rail.

“Hello! Dr. Tot!” Beatrix shouted, almost breathless. “It is Beatrix! I am coming up!”

“Why, Miss Griffin, what are you doing up here this late at—

“I don’t have time to explain!” she said forcefully, turning the corner so he could fully see her. He opened his beak to try and reason with her, but recoiled at the sight of her bleeding eye, and the blood stains on her clothes.

“M-My goodness!!” he stuttered, almost too shaken to speak. “What...what’s happened to you?”

Beatrix shook her head and grabbed him by the shoulders.

“Again, I don’t have time to explain to you! I need to get out of Treno at once! I know you have access to the Gargants—

“You need a doctor at once!” Dr. Tot insisted, sitting her down on one of his benches. “I cannot even believe you’re walking, you must be in so much pain. How did you get here?”

Beatrix shook her head fiercely, and swallowed. “I disobeyed Charles again. This time…it had real consequences.”

It was a half-lie, but one she could live with. “I won’t live past tonight if I don’t get out of here. You must understand. I don’t have time to tell you the whole story—perhaps someday.”

Dr. Tot looked her over with much trepidation, and looked behind his back and all around for a sign of someone looking for her. Once he knew he was in the clear, he kneeled down to look up at her face, and decided she was sincere. There was great compassion written in his eyes, and he nodded.

“Ok. I will get you out of here. But you cannot tell anyone I helped you. I could be executed as an accomplice.”

“Thank you,” Beatrix said, relieved, bowing her head.

“Where will you go?” he asked. Beatrix had never really thought about it, but the answer became clear as day in that instant.

“Alexandria. I want to go to Alexandria,” she said, thinking about her father.

“Alright. But you must promise me one thing, dear Beatrix,” he noted, raising a finger and putting one hand on her shoulder, “that if you go to Alexandria, you must not tell anyone who you really are, and you must get medical assistance immediately…”

Beatrix nodded again, this time more eagerly. “Yes, yes. I promise.”

“Ok.” 

He was resolute in his decision. He took her hand and led her up a few ladders to the ladder and hole that went down into Gargant Roo.

“I will go first so I can lead you down. You probably can’t see too well…”

He climbed down the shaft without another word, and Beatrix followed suit. They made their way safely down to the platform, and Dr. Tot took her hands in his own. He reached into his pocket and pulled out some yellow Gargant weed.

“Now, listen to me, Beatrix...you are going to find the tunnel connection sequence and pull the lever. Once you hop into the cart, I will pull the lever at the left end of the platform to change the trajectory to Alexandria…then once you get on, you’re going to get off three stops from here, which is Alexandria town. Get off at the castle, and you’ll find yourself in more hot water.”

The both of them worked as a team, and thankfully no monsters popped up during their work. Before long, Beatrix was hopping in the cart and thanking Dr. Tot with what little energy she had left.

“I cannot thank you enough, kind sir.” 

Dr. Tot shook his head. “Just remember what I told you. Please be safe, Miss Griffin.”

He walked away from her at the moment, and pulled the lever on the left. Beatrix watched him slip away in the distance as she was off, and waved to him. Suddenly, her eye and head started to scream in pain, and she knew she would probably get an infection if she did not heal herself quickly.

She took her right hand to her eye and tried to perform white magic, but it was no use. She was starting to get dizzy and could barely concentrate. 

“Will I die on this Gargant?” she questioned, thinking of how lucky she was to even get away. She didn’t want all that effort to go to waste, for Dr. Tot to put his life on the line for nothing. If she was found, he would be tried.

She made another attempt to perform some weak magic, but failed. She was too tired, too out of focus. She laid down on the bench and prayed that she make it to Alexandria before it was too late, but then remembered that she must watch for her stop. Painstakingly, she sat up, and held her throbbing head in her hands. She held onto consciousness by focusing on the wind on her face, and tried to think more pleasant thoughts. 

Finally, the stop arrived. Clinging onto life with every breath she took, she pulled the mechanism to stop the Gargant, and hopped out of the vehicle, tumbling to the ground as she did. She wasn’t sure if she had enough energy to make it up the steep slope she saw ahead, into town, but she told herself she was going to die trying.

Beatrix didn’t remember the rest of that night. 

She woke up in an infirmary the next morning, utterly confused, vision blurry, limbs aching, tender in her nether region. She sat up gingerly as to not aggravate any of her injuries. She rested the weight of her body on the arm that ached less, and brought the other to feel a bandage that covered a quarter of her face. In her slumber, Beatrix almost forgot, blissfully, that she had only one eye.

The fact of the matter hit her like a stake in the heart, and she started to sob. It was a queer feeling, the righteousness of safety, the warmth in her belly of gratefulness. She gazed around the off-white room at all the others sleeping in beds next to her, and her sensitive heart swelled with deep compassion and love for each and every one of them. They didn’t know how lucky they were to be sleeping peacefully, undaunted by a single thing, being looked after in the best way. Beatrix missed that feeling. She missed her father. And how much she missed him hit her, really believing that he, or some visage of him, had saved her that night. She clutched the blankets to her chest in her gratitude, in her love of him…but in the back of her mind she wondered if he had been the only good man on Gaia, and what her next move was, and how she would hide from the authorities that would surely be looking for her.

Her head began its throbbing again. She had to lay it back down. A young woman of around 17 entered the room, and laid a bowl of warm water next to her bedside table. She reached into it and wrung out a cloth, before placing it on her forehead.

“You’re awake,” she noted, and Beatrix basked in the feeling of the warmth. She didn’t answer, as she was afraid to speak and be somehow identified by the deep, yet honey-laden tonality of her voice.

The woman sat on the side of the bed and studied her pensively. 

“How old are you, miss? And where are you from? We found you unconscious on the outskirts of town, looking like you got a bad lot.”

Beatrix didn’t answer at first, and her one good eye shied away.

“I…I’m 16,” she lied.

“16, huh?” the girl asked, not moving from her position. She had a trace of compassion in her gaze, and frowned. “Well I have to ask now…what happened to you?”

She shook her head just barely so the cloth wouldn’t fall off, and refused to answer.

“Well, you don’t have to divulge. I’m supposing you know that we had to perform a bit of heavy sleep magic on you and take out your eye, and sew the lid it shut.”

Beatrix still said nothing, taking all the grief of it into her awareness.

“And the doctor would usually inform you of this, but she’s out a bit busy right now. So, she told me to tell you.”

The young nurse waited in the silence for a moment before carrying on.

“You see…this may be hard you hear. You…will probably never be able to bear children ever again. Whatever was done to your insides has you severely deformed, structurally. It is highly likely you would miscarry at the earliest stages of any pregnancy…”

She trailed off and looked away, sorry for her fellow woman. Beatrix almost expected as much, though it didn’t hurt any less.

“I…I forgot…” Beatrix said finally, causing for the nurse’s ear to perk up. “…that females were allowed to be doctors here.”

The nurse looked puzzled, but went along with it. 

“Why…yes. This kingdom is somewhat of a matriarchy, so I would hope women can be practicing here.”

“Thank you,” Beatrix said abruptly. “I wish to be left alone now, if you will.”

The nurse nodded and got up from the bed, and walked toward the entryway. Before disappearing behind the white curtain, she spun around on her heel with a dark look about her face.

“Um…whoever you are. You sound like you speak with perfect manners. I presume you come from a wealthy background. So you should have no trouble paying for services. Just let me know who I need to page…”

She left the room with those words hanging sullenly, dreadfully in the air about Beatrix’s head. Her eyes burst open in horror. She realized, at that moment, that she couldn’t afford to pay the medical expenses—she had no money on her.

“Wait!” she shouted, and shot up in her bed, not caring about the warm cloth that flew on the floor. “I…I actually don’t have a dime to my name. How will I pay?”

She did not come back through the veil, but merely stood there, her still shadow against the whiteness of it produced a sinisterly nature that chilled Beatrix to the bone. She saw the woman’s fingers press softly against it, as if in shock herself.

“…As we are a matriarchy, we must oblige our men, too. We have ways the women can pay.”

That was all she said before she fled.

IXIXIXIXIXIXIXIXIX

Beatrix hated what she had been petitioned to do, but she did it willingly. It was the best way she could hide from the authorities, anyway.

She knew they were looking for her, but nobody gave a thought to check the whore-house. And those who occupied it, didn’t dare rat out Oliver Menton’s best girl. Supple, supposedly sixteen, fresh…not a virgin, but could pass for one over and over, she was so incredibly, irresistibly beautiful.

At least, that was the line that was fed to her. Over and over, every other night. And the men believed him, too, and they paid top dollar for her. She was given one night to recover, and one night sold off. 

Her experiences were mostly far from pleasant, some truly degrading, but nothing was worse than what she had experienced with Charles. So she tolerated every act, and thank god she was so good at dissociating from all those years of abuse.

“Your body…we know about your defect, but apparently it makes ya pretty tight, what with all that scar tissue!” one of the girls said to her. 

It made her the perfect whore, really. She could not keep a pregnancy. 

She raked in the money for the owner, and kept very little for herself, after the medical unit got their cut.

“You’re almost through, just a couple more nights, and you’re free to go,” Oliver would say, but the end never came. She suspected that the hospital had already been paid in full, and he was just keeping her around until she was “ruined”.

But she didn’t really care all that much. There was no thought to what her life would be after the brothel. She was fed, clothed, given a room and a bed, and paid, though it was very little. Her only fear was being sold out to a keeper, and kept as a concubine.

She still often thought about suicide. How her life had very little meaning beyond selling her sex to much older, wealthy men.

There were no good men. Only evil, she thought.

She was thinking about that very subject while awaiting her guest of the evening. She laid out on her dingy bed in her designated lingerie, a new pair bought for her every night. The owner decided to have a signature look for her, decked her out with a special blue bandana that was tied specially to cover all of her scars, and hanging, gold and jade earrings that looked quite elegant with her curly hair. 

She noticed that her 9PM appointment was running a bit late. Beatrix used this time to sulk a bit, and focus on the torches aflame all around her, bewitched with her own white magic to give a multi colored glow about the room. The beads at hung off the door frame concealed her from the next room in all their shimmering glory. Beatrix sometimes wondered about the other girls beyond, and wondered about how horribly the more common men treated them. She did not envy them, and feared her own inevitable days in that section.

Suddenly, there were screams from the girls, and men shouting. Beatrix jolted up to listen, and heard a couple glasses shatter, before there were footsteps coming in her direction. Too petrified to get up to face what was happening, she sat upright on the bed and waited. Her skin felt like it froze over. She was sure they had found her.

It was a few minutes of agony while Beatrix listened to the sounds of female voices gently conversing.

When the intruder finally entered her room, who came through those beads shocked her more than anyone ever could have. It was General Marceline, red curls aflame as they always were, a beacon of beauty and hope from her childhood. She stood proud in the doorway, hands on her hips, Save the Queen strapped to her by her hilt.

“G-General Marceline?!” Beatrix blurted out, stunned.

Marceline cocked an eyebrow, then simply laughed. She was full of more mirth than Beatrix had pictured.

“Why do you sound do shocked?” the general asked, moving a bit closer. “I’ve never seen you here before, on my monthly scouting appointment. And who might you be, young one?”

“I-I-I—

“Go on, spit it out. I don’t have a lot of time.”

“M-My name is…Delina…”

Marceline’s eyes narrowed, and she looked Beatrix up and down with suspicion.

“That’s not your name, girl, I can tell a lie from the moment it is uttered. What is your real name, and where do you hail from?”

The jig was up, Beatrix thought. She was going to be airshipped back to Treno and executed.

“…My…name…is Beatrix Griffin. I hail from house Griffin in Treno.”

The general didn’t look shocked. In fact, she looked satisfied. She smirked, and pulled out a scroll with Beatrix’s face on it. The large print underneath read:

“WANTED FOR MURDER. BEATRIX GRIFFIN. HAS ONE EYE, CURLY BROWN HAIR.”

“Word has gotten to me that you were here at The Cherry on Chariot, you see.”

Beatrix hung her head in shame.

“Yes…I am guilty of that. If you’re going to take me, just do it now.”

She held out her wrists to be bound. The awkward silence filled her ears, then another small, jolly, but deep laugh emanated from the older woman.

“My dear child…I am not here to arrest you. I am here to recruit you.”

Beatrix looked up, hope and inspiration welling in her eyes. She blinked.

“R-Recruit me?”

“Yes, darling.” The general almost interrupted, checking her beige lacquered nails. “Don’t think I don’t remember you of old. A child in the parade. I knew your father quite well, actually. You deserve a better life than this one. Come.”

“B-But I’m not really 16! I can’t enlist in the army!” Beatrix fought back, astonished at what she just heard.

General Marceline waved her forward. “It does not matter, not as long as I set the rules around this kingdom. Come now. Get up and follow me.”

IXIXIXIXIXIXIXIXIX

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HOLY CRAP. I am so sorry this took so long to post, but I needed to make sure I write it to my liking and that I covered every piece of her story that I wanted to. And I think I really accomplished that. Let me know what you all think and if you have any questions. I know it was long and drawn out, and perhaps confusing, so I may need a fact check.
> 
> Beatrix’s backstory is not yet finished! It will be a two part series within the story. Thanks for reading!


End file.
